SUmetican  a?en  of 


EDGAR  ALLAN   POE. 


BY 


GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY. 


BOSTON: 
HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY. 

New  York:    11   East  Seventeenth  Street. 


1885. 


Copyright,  1885, 
BY  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY. 

3-  %  -S~-Z>  6 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge: 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


8 $5 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
PARENTAGE  

CHAPTER  II. 
EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  III. 
WANDERINGS 

CHAPTER   IV. 
AT  THE  SOUTH    

CHAPTER  V. 
IN  PHILADELPHIA 

CHAPTER   VI. 
IN  NEW  YORK 

CHAPTER   VII. 
THE  END  or  THE  PLAY 


PAGE 
1 


15 


30 


.       63 


104 


.     201 


.     278 


PREFACE. 


THE  principal  printed  sources  for  a  narrative  of 
Poe's  life  are  the  following,  of  which  the  first 
three  were  inspired  by  himself  and  published 
before  his  death :  I.,  Griswold's  sketch,  in  "  The 
Poets  and  Poetry  of  America,"  1842 ;  II.,  Hirst's 
sketch,  in  the  Philadelphia  "Saturday  Museum," 
1843  ;  III.,  Lowell's  sketch,  in  "  Graham's  Maga 
zine,"  1845  ;  IV.,  Griswold's  "  Memoir,"  founded  on 
the  documents  put  into  his  hands  as  Poe's  executor 
and  prefixed  to  the  third  volume  of  the  original 
edition  of  Poe's  "Works,"  1850,  but  now  suppressed ; 
V.,  Mrs.  Whitman's  "  Edgar  Poe  and  his  Critics," 
1860  ;  VI.,  Didier's  "Life,"  prefixed  to  an  edition  of 
Poe's  "  Poems,"  1876  ;  VII.,  Gill's  "  Life,"  1877  ; 
VIII.,  Stoddard's  "  Life,"  prefixed  to  a  volume  of  se 
lections  from  the  "Works,"  1880,  and  now  included 
in  the  latest  complete  edition  (A.  C.  Armstrong  & 
Son,  1884,  6  vols.) ;  IX.,  Ingram's  "  Life  "  (London), 
1880.  These  authorities,  each  of  which  contains 


vi  PREFACE. 

original  matter  peculiar  to  itself,  and  numerous 
personal  reminiscences  of  Poe  in  periodicals  and 
newspapers,  have  been  used  in  the  preparation  of 
the  present  biography.  The  statements  of  fact  in 
these  sources  are  extraordinarily  conflicting,  doubt 
ful,  and  contested ;  and  in  view  of  this,  as  well  as 
of  the  spirit  of  rancor  excited  in  any  discussion  of 
Poe's  character,  the  author  has  made  this,  so  far  as 
was  possible,  a  documentary  biography,  has  veri 
fied  all  facts  positively  stated  at  first  hand,  and 
has  felt  obliged  to  assign  the  authority  followed, 
in  any  questionable  assertions,  in  foot  notes.  This 
method,  which  seemed  the  only  practicable  one  if 
truth  was  to  be  arrived  at,  has  involved  a  more 
direct  obligation  to  previous  works  than  would 
otherwise  have  been  the  case ;  but  the  author  in 
this  matter  has  been  treated  with  marked  courtesy, 
and  he  takes  pleasure  in  thanking  Mr.  Eugene  L. 
Didier  and  TV.  Fearing  Gill,  Esq.,  for  voluntarily 
offering  to  him  the  use  of  their  material,  and 
Messrs.  A.  C.  Armstrong  &  Son,  the  owners  of 
the  copyright  of  the  Griswold  and  Stoddard 
memoirs,  for  permission  to  extract  the  passages 
found  in  the  text.  To  Mr.  Gill  he  is  indebted  also 
for  the  use  of  the  incomplete  MS.  "  Life  "  by  T.  C. 
Clarke,  once  Poe's  partner.  To  Mr.  Ingram's 


PREFACE.  Vll 

work  the  present  biography  is  under  obligation,  as 
the  foot  notes  exhibit,  especially  for  extracts  (the 
briefest  possible)  from  Poe's  correspondence  with 

women.     The  letters  designated    "Poe   to  ," 

and  accredited  to  Ingram's  "  Life"  where  they  had 
been  previously  printed,  were  placed  at  the  author's 
disposal  by  their  owner ;  and  for  this  favor,  as  well 
as  for  a  copy  of  the^4^^i^Lto  "  Eureka,"  he  desires 
to  express  his  thanks. 

Notwithstanding  the  amount  of  printed  matter 
regarding  Poe,  his  life  has  not  been  exhaustively 
treated.  The  larger  portion  of  the  following  pages 
consists  of  wholly  new  information,  or  of  old  state 
ments  so  radically  corrected  as  to  become  new. 
In  preparing  this  the  author  has  been  indebted  to 
the  assistance  of  very  many  persons,  of  whom  he 
can  thank  by  name  only  a  few,  but  he  trusts  that 
the  lack  of  any  public  acknowledgment  will  not 
be  misconstrued  as  neglect.  Not  to  enter  upon 
minor  matters  and  the  incessant  corrections  of 
detail  made  by  the  present  volume,  the  account 
of  Poe's  parentage  and  marriage  is  for  the  first  time 
given  according  to  the  facts,  from  original  in 
vestigation.  The  discovery  of  the  papers  that 
settle  Poe's  history  during  the  years  concern 
ing  which  nothing  whatever  has  hitherto  been 


Viii  PREFACE. 

definitely  known,  was  due  to  the  consideration 
of  Robert  Lincoln,  Secretary  of  War,  and  the  kind 
ness  of  Adjutant-General  R.  C.  Drum.  The  MSS. 
and  other  material  collected  by  the  late  Judge 
Neilson  Poe,  and  hitherto  unpublished,  are  of  great 
value,  particularly  the  papers  that  give  the  only 
contemporary  account  of  Poe's  death,  and  the 
Snodgrass  correspondence,  which  affords  interesting 
details  of  Poe's  years  in  Philadelphia.  The  cor 
respondence  of  Poe  with  Mr.  James  Russell  Lowell, 
the  most  interesting  of  all  from  a  literary  point  of 
view,  throws  much  light  into  obscure  portions  of 
Poe's  mature  life,  as  well  as  upon  his  mind  and 
character,  and  the  correspondence  between  Mr.  C. 
F.  Briggs  and  Mr.  Lowell  is  the  most  direct  and 
the  only  authoritative  piece  of  evidence  regarding 
Poe's  affairs  during  his  connection  with  the 
"  Broadway  Journal."  Letters  of  Poe,  MSS.  and 
other  original  material  bearing  upon  his  life  have 
also  been  furnished  by  Messrs.  Ferdinand  T. 
Dreer,  Thomas  H.  Ellis,  W.  J.  McClellan,  T.  B. 
Aldrich,  Allan  B.  Magruder,  Douglass  Sherley, 
William  Nelson,  Mrs.  Susan  A.  Weiss,  William 
E.  Foster,  John  Parker,  J.  N.  Ireland,  F.  O.  C. 
Darley,  and  Arthur  Mazyck.  Mr.  E.  C.  Stedman 
kindly  loaned  the  daguerreotype  from  which  the 


PREFACE.  IX 

portrait  here  given  is  engraved.  For  all  this 
generous  assistance  the  author  makes  grateful 
acknowledgment,  as  well  as  to  Professor  Irving 
Stringham,  of  the  University  of  California,  for  the 
substance  of  the  criticism  of  Poe's  astronomical 
speculations,  and  to  Mr.  Frank  Parks  for  friendly 
and  invaluable  aid  in  many  ways ;  especially  does 
he  feel  deeply  obliged  to  Miss  Amelia  F.  Poe, 
General  Drum,  and  Mr.  Lowell,  for  their  attention 
and  liberality. 

BEVERLY,  MASS.,  December  18,  1884. 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 


CHAPTEE  L 

PAKENTAGE. 

EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  was  born  at  Boston,  Janu 
ary  19,  1809.  His  parents  were  regular  members 
of  the  company  then  playing  at  the  Federal  Street 
Theatre.  His  father,  who  was  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  had  been  known  in  his  youth  at  Baltimore 
as  the  son  of  the  ardent  Revolutionary  patriot,  Da 
vid  Poe,  whose  name  he  bore,  and  as,  ostensibly,  a 
student  of  law.  His  friends,  however,  thought  of 
him  rather  as  a  clever  amateur  actor  and  a  boon 
companion  of  the  Thespian  Club ;  and  after  he  had 
emigrated  to  Georgia,  where  one  of  his  father's 
brothers  had  settled,  they  may  have  found  noth 
ing  out  of  keeping  with  his  affable,  impulsive,  and 
unreflecting  character  in  the  report  that  he  had 
left  the  brown  law  books  ranged  on  the  shelves 
of  his  uncle's  brother-in-law  and  gone  upon  the 
stage.  Old  General  Poe,  as  the  citizens  called 
him  in  recognition  of  his  Revolutionary  services, 
was  not  a  man  to  condone  such  an  offense  in  his 
1 


2  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

eldest  born.  He  was  in  his  sixtieth  year,  with  at 
least  three  younger  children  to  provide  for,  and  he 
let  the  runaway  shift  for  himself,  —  a  situation  te 
diously  familiar,  in  after  years,  to  the  young  actor, 
who  was  most  successful  on  the  boards  in  that  part 
of  the  "  Wild  Gallant "  which  he  had  first  essayed 
in  real  life  ;  but  his  father  was  by  no  means  the 
worldly-minded,  dry-hearted  miser  of  the  play 
wrights. 

General  Poe,  indeed,  left  a  memory  full  of  vir 
tue.  Every  action  of  his  life  bespeaks  a  strong 
and  decisive  man,  from  the  time  he  first  comes  into 
public  notice  as  "  one  David  Poe,  a  wheelwright," 
leader  of  the  mob  that  ousted  Kobert  Christie,  the 
Koyal  Sheriff,  from  the  city,  and  afterward  at 
tacked  the  Tory  editor,  William  Goddard,  the 
slanderer  of  Washington.  He  had  a  natural  right 
to  a  rude  and  resolute  strength,  since  by  a  not  im 
probable  tradition  he  traced  his  descent  through  his 
father,  John  Poe,  who  had  emigrated  about  1745 
from  the  north  of  Ireland  and  settled  in  Pennsyl 
vania,  to  one  of  Cromwell's  officers  who  had  re 
ceived  grants  of  Irish  land,  while  on  his  mother's 
side  he  is  said  to  have  been  nephew  to  John  Mac- 
Bride,  who  fought  under  Nelson  at  Copenhagen, 
and  rose  to  be  an  Admiral  of  the  Blue.  In  his 
Revolutionary  post  of  Assistant  Quartermaster- 
General  for  Baltimore,  he  was  a  prompt  and  effect 
ive  official,  whose  patriotism  was  genuine  and  deep- 
seated,  since  he  advanced  money  from  his  scanty 


PARENTAGE.  3 

private  funds,  for  which,  be  it  added,  no  repayment 
was  made,  except  long  afterwards  in  the  form  of 
a  pension  to  his  widow.  His  country's  injustice, 
however,  did  not  lessen  his  devotion.  In  1814, 
when  he  was  in  his  seventy-second  year,  the  old 
spirit  blazed  out  again  in  his  active  service  as  a 
volunteer  in  the  battle  of  North  Point,  against  his 
old  enemies,  the  British.  An  honest,  vigorous,  sen 
sible  man,  capable  of  worldly  sacrifice,  —  so  much 
he  was  ;  and  if  the  ties  of  natural  affection  seem 
to  have  been  in  his  heart  neither  strong  nor  tender, 
even  toward  his  orphaned  grandchildren,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  he  was  not  prosperous,  and 
they  were  well  cared  for  by  their  adoptive  parents. 
The  last  record  concerning  him  is  that  Lafayette, 
on  his  parting  visit  to  this  country,  went  to  his 
grave  and  kissed  the  sod  above  him  exclaiming, 
"  Ici  repose  un^  coeur  noble  !  " 

On  the  maternal  side,  the  record  of  Edgar  Poe's 
lineage  belongs  to  the  fleeting  memories  of  the  stage, 
and  \s  both  briefer  and  more  obscure.  The  few 
facts  that  remain  .in  regard  to  his  mother  and 
grandmother  have  been  practically  ignored  by  our 
books  of  theatrical  annals,  and  are  to  be  found  only 
in  contemporary  newspapers.  The  "  Independent 
Chronicle  and  the  Universal  Advertiser,"  published 
at  Boston,  in  its  issue  of  February  11,  1796,  an 
nounced  that  Mrs.  Arnold,  an  English  actress  from 
the  Theatre  Royal,  Covent  Garden,  would  make 
her  first  appearance  in  America  at  the  Federal 


4  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Street  Theatre,  on  February  12.  If  the  success 
of  her  first  night  was  an  earnest  of  her  future 
fortune,  she  must  have  received  a  considerable  share 
of  applause,  as  is  seen  by  the  following  character 
istic  notice :  — 

"  We  have  had  the  pleasure  of  a  complete  fruition  in 
the  anticipation  of  the  satisfaction  a  Boston  audience 
would  receive  from  the  dramatic  abilities  of  Mrs.  Ar 
nold.  The  theatre  never  shook,  with  such  bursts  of  ap 
plause,  as  on  her  first  appearance,  on  Friday  evening 
last.  Not  a  heart  but  was  sensible  of  her  merits  ;  not  a 
tongue  but  vibrated  in  her  praise  ;  not  a  hand  but  moved 
in  approbation.  Nor  did  these  expressions  of  satisfaction 
die  with  the  evening,  her  merits  have  since  been  the 
pleasing  theme  of  every  conversation."  1 

Mrs.  Arnold,  whose  forte  seems  to  have  been  in 
vocal  music,  sang  often,  and  also  acted  in  comic 
operas,  burlettas,  and  romantic  plays,  until  the 
close  of  the  season,  May  16.  On  June  1  she  gave 
a  vocal  concert,  at  which  her  daughter,  Elizabeth, 
made  her  first  appearance  and  sang  some  popular 
songs  adapted  to  her  youth.  The  fascination  of 
the  mother  was  not  confined  to  the  stage.  She  had 
now  captivated  —  "  Nobody  Coming  to  Marry  Me  " 
was  one  of  her  piquant  ditties  —  the  impressionable 
heart  of  one  Mr.  Tubbs,  a  player  on  the  piano 
forte  ;  and  after  their  speedy  union  the  bridegroom 
set  up  a  theatre  at  Portland,  Me.  A  very  little 
theatre  it  must  have  been,  hardly  more  than  a 
1  Massachusetts  Mercury,  February  16,  1796. 


PARENTAGE.  5 

family  affair,  since  it  was  recruited  from  the  ama 
teurs  of  the  town,  and  had  for  its  chief  attractions 
only  Tubbs's  piano,  his  wife's  voice,  and  the  pre 
cocity  of  his  step-daughter,  —  "  the  beautiful  Miss 
Arnold,  whose  powers  as  an  actress  command  ad 
miration."  l  One  winter's  experience  of  the  theat 
rical  enthusiasm  of  Maine  proved  enough,  and 
when  spring  came  the  three  were  engaged  as  mem 
bers  of  the  troupe  made  up  by  Manager  Solee  from 
the  Boston  and  Charleston  comedians  to  play  in 
the  latter  city.  On  their  way  South  they  stopped 
at  New  York,  where  two  performances  were  given 
at  the  John  Street  Theatre  in  August,  but  the 
company  was  soon  afterwards  scattered  by  the  fatal 
yellow  fever  of  that  year.  During  the  autumn 
the  family  went  South,  and  on  the  opening  of  the 
Charleston  theatre,  in  November,  made  their  de*but. 
They  performed  the  whole  winter,  but  Miss  Arnold 
in  only  slight  parts,  —  a  child,  a  nymph,  a  Cupid  ; 
and  at  the  close  of  the  season,  in  April,  the  name 
of  Poe's  grandmother  Tubbs  and  her  obscure  con 
sort,  the  piano-forte  player,  disappeared  from  his 
tory,  while  young  Miss  Arnold  returned  to  the 
North  and  joined  the  Philadelphia  company.  With 
her  new  associates  she  acted  the  next  four  seasons 
(1798-1802),  during  their  winter  engagements  in 
the  city,  their  summer  ventures  at  Southwark,  and 
on  their  excursions  to  Washington  and  elsewhere ; 
her  roles  were  usually  unimportant,  but  she  enjoyed 
1  The  Eastern  Herald  and  Gazette  of  Maine,  December  12, 1796. 


6  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

benefits  and  was  apparently  under  the  protection 
of  Mr.  Usher  and  Mrs.  Snowden.  On  March  14, 
1800,  Mr.  C.  D.  Hopkins,  a  young  man,  made  a 
reputation  on  his  very  first  appearance  as  "  Tony 
Lumpkin,"  and  became  a  popular  member  of  the 
company,  with  which  he  continued  to  play,  except 
during  occasional  absences  at  the  South.  In  1802, 
after  the  season  had  closed  with  the  engagement  of 
Mr.  Green,  of  the  Virginia  company,  Miss  Arnold 
played  at  Baltimore,  and  there  received  a  benefit, 
June  4.  Possibly  it  was  on  this  occasion  that  the 
charms  of  the  petite  and  arch  beauty  inflamed  the 
heart  of  young  Poe ;  but  if  it  were  so  the  spark 
must  quickly  have  grown  dim  and  cold,  for  within 
two  months  she  was  married  to  Mr.  Hopkins,  who 
had  been  acting  during  the  spring  at  Norfolk. 
Early  in  August  the  pair  were  delighting  the  people 
of  Alexandria,  and  they  were  long  to  hold  good 
rank  among  the  Virginia  players,  as  may  still  be 
read  in  old  files  of  Petersburg,  Norfolk,  and  Rich 
mond  papers. 

In  the  fall  of  1804  a  new  member  was  added  to 
the  company  in  the  person  of  Mr.  David  Poe.  This 
youth  of  twenty-five  summers l  had  left  his  uncle's 

1  The  age  of  both  David  Poe  and  Miss  Arnold  has  been  reck 
oned  (Ingram,  i.  3)  as  if  they  were  born  in  1787.  The  youthful- 
ness  of  the  lovers,  however,  disappears  with  the  other  romantic 
features  of  their  mythical  elopement.  The  mention  of  Miss  Ar 
nold  at  Boston  and  Portland  in  1796  can  hardly  be  thought  to 
apply  to  a  child  of  nine  years,  and  her  roles  the  next  summer  in 
New  York  (the  play-bill  ascribes  one  of  these,  "Agues,"  hi  "  The 


PARENTAGE.  7 

at  Augusta,  and  made  "  his  second  appearance  on 
any  stage  "  at  Charleston,  December  5,  1803 ;  but 
he  had  previously  performed  at  the  same  place, 
December  1,  without  any  special  announcement. 
He  had  continued  uninterruptedly  in  the  same  com 
pany  until  the  close  of  the  season  in  the  spring,  a 
diffident,  easily  abashed  actor,  although  in  his  own 
role  as  "  Harry  Thunder  "  in  "  Wild  Oats."  He  was 
not,  as  has  hitherto  been  asserted,  drawn  to  the  South 
and  tempted  before  the  footlights  by  any  inamorata 
except  the  Comic  Muse;  nor  is  it  likely  that  his 
uncle,  who  died  the  following  September,  withdrew 
him,  as  the  tradition  avers,  from  the  fascination  of 
the  theatre  after  he  had  entered  on  his  career.  In 
November,  at  all  events,  the  new  actor,  for  whom 
particular  favor  was  asked  as  being  American  born, 
was  playing  in  the  Virginia  company  at  Petersburg, 
and  with  it  he  continued  as  it  moved  from  place  to 
place  through  its  wide  circuit,  until,  early  in  Septem 
ber,  1805,  it  opened  the  season  at  Mr.  Green's  new 
theatre  in  Washington.  Mr.  Green  was  particu 
larly  unfortunate  in  this  venture,  and  not  the  least 
of  his  losses  was  that  of  the  popular  comedian,  as 
he  is  styled,  Mr.  Hopkins,  who  died,  after  a  brief 

Mountaineers,"  to  "Mrs.  Arnold,"  but  presumably  by  a  misprint, 
as  the  name  of  "Mrs.  Tubbs"  is  in  the  same  list)  could  not  have 
been  filled  by  a  person  so  young.  The  character  of  her  life  and 
the  notices  of  her  acting  make  it  exceedingly  improbable  that  she 
was  much,  if  at  all,  younger  than  her  husband.  He  was  born 
"  certainly  not  later  than  1780."  — John  P.  Poe,  Esq.,  to  the  au 
thor,  June  19,  1883. 


8  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

illness,  on  October  26.  The  company,  and  his 
widow  among  the  rest,  performed  until  Christmas, 
and  then  went  southward  again.  Within  a  month 
Mr.  Poe,  with  some  pecuniary  aid  from  a  friend 
(for  these  actors  were  always  poor),  married  Mrs. 
Hopkins,  and  early  in  February  they  were  already 
playing  at  Richmond.  They  remained  in  Virginia 
until  May,  when  they  started  North ;  and  after  act 
ing  at  Philadelphia  in  June  and  July,  and  at  the 
new  Vauxhall  Gardens,  New  York,  from  the  middle 
of  July  until  late  in  August,  they  arrived  at  Boston 
by  October,  and  were  welcomed  by  Mrs.  Poe's  old 
friends,  the  Ushers. 

Here  they  had  their  permanent  home  for  the 
three  following  years.  From  the  contemporary 
criticisms 1  it  is  easy  to  form  a  clear  and  complete 
idea  of  the  personal  appearance  and  histrionic  talent 
of  the  poet's  father  and  mother.  David  Poe  was  a 
man  of  prepossessing  figure,  suitable  for  the  juve 
nile  and  gallant  parts,  the  Henrys  and  Charles 
Sedleys,  which  he  habitually  took;  his  voice  was 
full  and  manly,  but  untrained,  deficient  in  modula 
tion  and  in  power,  his  utterance  distinct  but  me 
chanical,  his  gesture  either  too  stiff  or  too  flaccid. 
He  was  sometimes  praised,  but  more  often  censured, 
or  even  made  fun  of,  for  his  lack  of  dignity  and  his 

1  These  are  contained  in  the  various  journals  of  all  the  cities 
in  which  the  Poes  acted,  and  more  particularly  in  a  few  period 
icals  of  elegant  literature,  —  The  Polyanthos,  The  Emerald,  The 
Theatrical  Censor  and  Critical  Miscellany,  The  Rambler's  Magazine 
and  Theatrical  Register,  and  The  New  Englander. 


PARENTAGE.  9 

dependence  on,  the  prompter.  His  range  was  nar 
row,  his  manner  always  remained  amateurish,  and 
after  repeated  trials  he  sank  at  last,  it  is  said,  into 
insignificance.  But  his  wife,  who  had  been  born 
and  trained  to  the  stage,  rose  above  mediocrity, 
although  she  apparently  never  equaled  her  mother 
in  popularity  or  in  merit.  She  was  fragile  in  figure 
(Ariel  was  one  of  her  roles),  and  her  voice,  when 
she  sang,  lacked  richness  and  volume.  She  began 
her  Boston  engagement  with  light  impersonations, 
and  soon  won  upon  the  public  by  her  archness  and 
roguery  in  the  comic  and  her  sweetness  in  the  ro 
mantic  plays.  Mr.  Buckingham,  the  somewhat  ex 
acting  critic  of  "  The  Polyanthos,"  pronounced  the 
hoyden  to  be  her  forte,  but  others  were  more  indul 
gent  to  her  serious  representations.  In  the  course 
of  time  she  l)eame_the 


when  Cooper  and  Fennell  were  enjoying  their 
greatest  triumphs,  she  was  the  Cordelia,  Oplielia, 
or  Blanche  of  the  drama,  and  when  the  youthful 
prodigy,  John  Howard  Payne,  first  came  on  the 
Boston  boards  in  1809,  she  still  maintained  her 
position,  playing  Palmyra  to  his  Zaphna,  Sigis- 
munda  to  his  Tancred,  and  the  like  parts.  An 
impression  of  the  regard  in  which  she  was  held, 
and  of  her  own  theatrical  labors,  can,  perhaps, 
best  be  got  from  the  following  favorable  notice, 
which,  moreover,  throws  a  suggestive  light  on  the 
worldly  condition  of  the  lesser  players  of  that 
time  :  — 


10  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  If  industry  can  claim  from  the  public  either  favor  or 
support  the  talents  of  Mrs.  Poe  will  not  pass  unrewarded. 
—  She  has  supported  and  maintained  a  course  of  charac 
ters  more  numerous  and  arduous  than  can  be  paralleled 
on  our  boards  during  any  one  season.  Often  she  has 
been  obliged  to  perform  three  characters  on  the  same 
evening,  and  she  has  always  been  perfect  in  the  text,  and 
has  well  comprehended  the  intention  of  her  author. 

"  In  addition  to  her  industry,  however,  Mrs.  Poe  has 
claims  for  other  favors  from  the  respectability  of  her 
talents.  Her  Romps  and  Sentimental  characters,  have 
an  individuality  which  has  marked  them  peculiarly  her 
own.  But  she  has  succeeded  often  in  the  tender  per 
sonations  of  tragedy  ;  her  conceptions  are  always  marked 
with  good  sense  and  natural  ability.  We  are  confident 
to  hope  therefore  that  the  Bostonians  will  not  suffer  her 
merits  to  be  so  slighted  that  poverty  and  distress  are  to 
result  from  her  benefit  night ;  as  has  been  the  case  with 
other  performers."  * 

This  appeal  was  ineffective,  since  the  Poes  ad 
vertised  a  second  benefit,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Ushers,  to  indemnify  them,  as  they  state  in  their 
personal  card  to  the  public  (in  which  they  "  hope 
for  that  sanction,  influence,  and  liberal  support 
which  has  ever  yet  distinguished  a  Boston  au 
dience "),  for  what  they  term  "the  great  failure 
and  severe  losses  sustained  by  their  former  at 
tempts."  2  A  friendly  effort  was  made  by  one 
"  Senex "  to  increase  Mrs.  Poe's  reputation  by 

1  Boston  Gazette,  March  21,  1808. 

2  Ibid.,  April  18,  1808. 


PARENTAGE.  11 

praise  of  her  moral  qualities  and  domestic  virtues, 
and  she  was  supported  by  the  good  will  of  some 
ladies  in  society  ;  but  there  was  clearly  a  party 
against  her  among  the  critics,  to  which  she  must 
finally  have  succumbed,  even  if  she  had  been  more 
successfully  defended  by  the  characteristic  argu 
ments  to  which,  as  Mr.  Buckingham  relates,  her 
husband  resorted  by  calling  upon  that  gentleman 
with  the  purpose  of  caning  him  for  his  imperti 
nence.  From  such  incidents  and  from  the  gen 
eral  tone  of  criticism  the  natural  conclusion  is  that 
Mrs.  Poe  was  an  interesting  rather  than  a  brilliant 
actress,  more  deserving  than  fortunate,  and  in 
debted  for  her  moderate  share  of  favor  rather  to 
her  painstaking  care  than  to  native  talents. 

She  played  very  often  during  these  years  ;  fre 
quently  she  sang,  and  sometimes  she  danced  a  Po 
lish  minuet,  —  the  feminine  counterpart  to  her  hus 
band's  hornpipes,  reels,  and  strathspeys.  There 
are  but  two  marked  breaks  in  her  appearances: 
one  in  the  early  months  of  1807,  when  her  son 
William  may  have  been  born ;  the  other  in  the  same 
months  of  1809,  when  she  suffered  her  second  con 
finement.  The  child,  born  January  19,1  was  named 

1  This  is  the  date  recorded  by  Poe  on  matriculating  at  the  Uni 
versity  of  Virginia  in  1826.  The  argument  by  which  Mr.  R.  H. 
Stoddard  seeks.to  discredit  it,  on  the  ground  that  Mrs.  Poe  acted 
through  January,  rests  on  a  too  cursory  examination  of  the 
evidence.  During  that  month  Mrs.  Poe  appeared  only  as  a  peas 
ant  in  a  pantomime,  apparently  three  times,  and  was  so  adver 
tised  to  appear  January  20.  Mr.  Stoddard,  assuming  that  she 


12  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Edgar.  The  mother  went  again  upon  the  stage 
February  10,  and  played  until  the  end  of  the  sea 
son  almost  incessantly.  The  family  then  left  Bos 
ton,  never  to  return,  but  not  without  grateful  feel 
ings  toward  the  city,  at  least  on  Mrs.  Poe's  part, 
since  on  the  back  of  a  painting  from  her  own  hand 
she  charged  her  son  to  "  love  Boston,  the  place  of 
his  birth,  and  where  his  mother  found  her  best  and 
most  sympathetic  friends."  l 

Early  in  September  the  Poes  had  become  mem 
bers  of  the  New  York  company,  in  which  they  re 
mained  until  the  following  July,  still  engaged  in 
acting  the  romantic  and  sentimental  drama  and 
light  comedy  of  the  period.  They  made  little  im 
pression.  At  the  close  of  the  season  they  left  New 
York,  and  within  six  weeks  Mrs.  Poe  had  joined 
her  old  friends  of  Mr.  Green's  Virginia  company, 
and  was  announced  at  Eichmond,  but  there  is  no 
further  mention  of  her  husband  :  whether  he  was 

did  appear  on  that  evening,  puts  the  date  of  birth  forward  one 
month  ;  hut  the  matter  is  settled  by  several  notices,  of  which 
the  following  is  one  :  — 

"  We  congratulate  the  frequenters  of  the  Theatre  on  the  recov 
ery  of  Mrs.  Poe  from  her  recent  confinement.  This  charming 
little  Actress  will  make  her  re-appearance  To-morrow  Evening, 
etc."  Boston  Gazette,  February  9,  1809. 

The  suggested  date,  February  19,  is  further  inadmissible  be 
cause  Mrs.  Poe  played  in  important  roles  five  times  between  the 
10th  and  24th  of  that  month.  The  date  upon  Poe's  monument, 
January  20,  apparently  derived  from  Judge  Neilson  Poe,  of  Bal 
timore,  has  no  extant  authority  whatever  to  support  it. 

1  Ingram,  i.  6. 


PARENTAGE.  13 

already  dead,  or  lived  on  in  a  lingering  consump 
tion,  is  uncertain.  Mrs.  Poe  continued  to  play  in 
the  field  of  her  early  triumphs,  and  from  the  warm 
commendation  she  received  it  would  seem  that  her 
charms  and  beauty  had  suffered  no  loss  of  power 
over  the  audiences  of  the  Southern  circuit.  A  year 
later,  after  having  given  birth  to  her  third  child, 
Rosalie,  she  fell  into  a  rapid  decline.  At  the  open 
ing  of  the  Richmond  season,  in  August,  1811,  she 
was  still  an  active  member  of  the  troupe,  nor  did 
she  cease  to  appear  until  after  her  benefit  night, 
early  in  October.  The  family,  which  was  in  the 
utmost  destitution,  immediately  became  the  object 
of  the  charity  of  the  Richmond  ladies.  The  play 
ers,  too,  advertised  a  second  night  for  her  benefit, 
"  in  consequence  of  the  serious  and  long-continued 
indisposition  of  Mrs.  Poe,  and  in  compliance  with 
the  advice  and  solicitation  of  many  of  the  most 
repectable  families,"  a  and  on  the  morning  of  that 
day  the  following  card  appeared  :  — 

fly  TO   THE   HUMANE. 

"  On  this  night  Mrs.  Poe,  lingering  on  the  bed  of  dis 
ease  and  surrounded  by  her  children,  asks  your  assist 
ance  ;  and  asks  it  perhaps  for  the  last  time."  2 

A  few  days  later,  December  8,  she  died.  A  few 
kind  words  in  a  Richmond  paper,  a  single  line  in 
one  at  Boston,  was  all  that  marked  the  close  of  a 

1  The  Virginia  Patriot,  November  29,  1811. 

2  The  Enquirer,  November  29,  1811 


14  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

career  which,  though  honorable,  must  have  been 
full  of  labor,  anxiety,  and  poverty.  The  tinsel 
crown,  the  gauze  and  the  flash  of  the  paste  jewels, 
the  robes  and  the  red  shoes,  went  into  the  chest  of 
faded  things.  Harlequin  must  seek  a  new  Colum 
bine  before  the  footlights  flare  up  again ;  and  there, 
left  over  from  the  comedy,  were  three  children, 
the  eldest  five  years  old,  all  helpless  and  in  want. 
Possibly  the  actors  might  have  afforded  them  some 
protection,  but  the  disastrous  conflagration  of  the 
theatre  on  Christmas  night  prevented.  That  fatal 
calamity,  which  threw  the  city  into  mourning  and 
turned  the  play-house  into  a  church,  deeply  stirred 
the  community,  and  in  the  charity  immediately  ex 
tended  to  all  the  sufferers  these  orphans  were  not 
neglected.  Mrs.  Allan,  a  young  wife  of  twenty- 
five  years,  and  her  friend,  Mrs.  McKenzie,  who 
were  attracted  by  the  younger  children,  took,  one 
Edgar,  the  other  Eosalie,  into  their  homes  ;  Will 
iam,  the  eldest,  was  cared  for  by  his  father's  friends 
at  Baltimore. 


CHAPTER  II. 

EDUCATION. 

ME.  JOHN  ALLAN,  who  now  with  great  reluc 
tance  gave  his  family  name  to  the  orphan  of  the 
poor  actors,  had  emigrated  from  Ayrshire,  and,  as 
a  member  of  the  firm,  Ellis  &  Allan,  had  already 
at  the  age  of  thirty-one  acquired  position  and  for 
tune  in  the  Virginia  tobacco  trade.  He  had  been 
married  for  some  time,  but  was  still  childless  ;  and 
although  in  admitting  a  stranger's  offspring  to  his 
family  he  had  at  first  merely  yielded  to  his  wife's 
urgent  entreaties,  the  black-eyed,  curly-haired  boy 
naturally  soon  became  a  pet  in  the  empty  home, 
especially  as  his  precocity  and  beauty  blended  with 
the  charm  of  his  young  affection  to  minister  to  the 
pride  as  well  as  touch  the^heart  of  the  foster-father. 
At  the  age  of  six  he  could  read,  draw,  and  dance  ; 
of  more  showy  accomplishments  (the  long,  narrow 
Virginia  table,  cleared  for  dessert,  being  his  stage), 
his  trick  before  company  was  to  pledge  their 
healths,  and  his  talent  was  to  declaim,  for  each  of 
which  he  had,  perhaps  by  inheritance,  an  equal 
aptitude.  He  received  the  rudiments  of  knowledge 
in  a  private  school  at  Richmond,  and  spent  the 


16  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

three  summers  following  his  mother's  death  at  the 
White  Sulphur  Springs,  then  the  fashionable  South 
ern  resort ;  in  both  places  tradition  still  affords 
glimpses  of  him,  —  a  prettily-dressed  boy  riding  his 
pony  or  running  with  his  dogs,  indulged  in  public 
as  a  general  favorite,  and  fondled  at  home  as  an 
only  child.  About  June  17,  1815,1  Mr.  Allan 
sailed  for  England,  with  his  wife,  her  sister,  and 
Edgar,  apparently  for  a  long  stay,  since  he  disposed 
of  some  of  his  household  goods  and  effects  by  auc 
tion  sale  before  leaving.  He  provided  an  Olive 
Branch,  a  Murray's  Reader,  and  two  Murray's 
Spelling  Books  for  Edgar's  entertainment  during 
the  voyage,  and  shortly  after  his  arrival  placed 
the  child,  then  six  years  old,  at  the  Manor  House 
School,  Stoke-Newington,  a  suburb  of  London. 

His  residence  there  seems  to  have  left  deep  marks 
of  remembrance  upon  his  mind,  nor  is  it  unlikely 
that  the  delight  in  the  ancient,  which  afterwards 
characterized  him,  sprang  partly  from  this  early 
familiarity  with  a  memorable  past  not  yet  vanished 
from. the  eye  and  hand.  The  main  village,  which 
has  since  been  lost  in  the  overflow  of  the  metrop 
olis,  then  consisted  of  a  long  elm-embowered  street 
of  the  Tudor  time,  following  the  track  of  a  Roman 
road  ;  near  the  old  Green,  by  deeply-shaded  walks, 
that  still  bear  the  names  of  Henry  and  Elizabeth, 

1  Colonel  Thomas  H.  Ellis,  to  the  author,  May  28,  1884. 
These  statements  regarding  Mr.  Allan's  absence  are  based  on 
the  books  of  the  firm,  Ellis  &  Allan,  in  Colonel  Ellis's  possession. 


EDUCATION.  17 

stood  the  houses  of  Anne  Boleyn's  ill-fated  lover, 
Earl  Percy,  and  of  her  daughter's  fortunate  court 
ier,  the  favorite  Leicester ;  to  the  west  ran  the 
green  lanes,  over  hazy  inland  fields,  and  to  the  east 
the  more  modern  street  of  Queen  Anne  and  early 
Georgian  architecture,  where  behind  its  formal 
box-bordered  parterre  rose  the  white  Manor  House 
School,  old  and  irregular,  sloping  in  the  rear  to 
the  high  brick  wall,  with  its  ponderous  spiked  and 
iron-studded  gates,  which  inclosed  the  playground. 
In  the  seclusion  of  these  grounds  Poe  spent  his 
pchool-days  from  his  eighth  to  his  thirteenth  year ; 
there  in  the  long,  narrow,  low  school-room,  oak- 
ceiled,  gothic-windowed,  with  its  irregular,  black, 
jackknife-hewed  desks  and  the  sacred  corner-boxes 
for  master  and  ushers  (in  one  of  them  once  sat 
the  murderer,  Eugene  Aram),  he  conned  his  Latin 
and  mispronounced  his  French ;  in  the  bedroom 
beyond  the  many  tortuous  passages  and  perplexing 
little  stairways,  he  first  felt  the  wakening  of  the 
conscience,  whose  self-echoing  whispers  he  after 
wards  heightened  into  the  voice  and  ghostly  ter 
ror  of  the  Spanish  Hombre  Embozado ;  in  that 
wide,  graveled,  treeless,  and  benchless  playground 
he  trained  his  muscles  in  the  sports,  and  when 
on  Saturday  afternoon  the  mighty  gate  swung 
open  he  and  his  mates  filed  out  to  walk  beneatli 
the  gigantic  and  gnarled  trees,  amid  which  once 
lived  Shakespeare's  friend,  Essex,  or  to  gaze  with  £ 
boy's  eyes  of  wonder  at  the  tl^jbfe  walls,  deep  win*  ;\  ^ 


18  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

dows  and  doors,  massive  with  locks  and  bars,  be 
hind  which  Robinson  Crusoe  was  written  ;  and  on 
Sunday,  after  the  holiday  ramble,  he  would  obey 
the  summons  of  the  hollow -toned  church  bell, 
sounding  from  its  fretted  tower,  and  witness  from 
the  scholars'  remote  gallery  pew  that  miraculous 
weekly  transformation  in  the  pulpit,  —  "  This  rev 
erend  man,  with  countenance  so  demurely  benign, 
with  robes  so  glossy  and  so  clerically  flowing,  with 
wig  so  minutely  powdered,  so  rigid  and  so  vast, 
—  could  this  be  he  who,  of  late,  with  sour  visage 
and  in  snuffy  habiliments,  administered,  ferule  in 
hand,  the  Draconian  Laws  of  the  academy  ?  Oh, 
gigantic  paradox !  "  1 

It  seems  a  monotonous  existence ;  but,  touched 
by  the  spirit  and  the  flush  of  boyhood,  it  was  really 
a  full  one,  the  life  of  keen  sensation,  of  personal 
rivalries  and  party  strife,  the  first  battle  and  the  first 
prize.  "  OA,  le  bon  temps"  Poe  cries,  "  que  ce  siecle 
defer!  "  and,  indeed,  he  must  have  passed  many  a 
lonely  hour,  too,  under  that  meagre  and  rigid  regime 
of  inferior  English  school-mastery ;  and  though 
he  learned  to  run  and  leap,  construe  Latin  and 
speak  French,  and  during  some  portion  of  the  time 
regularly  visited  the  Allans  in  London,  yet,  remem 
bering  that  these  five  years  are  the  ones  in  which 
home  ties  are  drawn  closest  about  the  hearts  of  most 
American  boys,  and  the  lessons  of  concession  learned 
by  them,  a  too  curious  mind  might  discover  in  this 
1  Works,  iii.  419. 


EDUCATION.  19 

stretch  of  the  boy's  life  the  first  workings  of  the 
sinister  influence  which  afterwards  struck  so  im 
passably  the  circle  of  isolation  about  the  man.  Dr. 
Bransby,  however,  the  parson-teacher,  remarked 
nothing  in  Edgar  Allan,  as  he  was  called,  except 
that  he  was  clever,  but  spoilt  by  "an  extravagant 
amount  of  pocket  money."  1  The  village,  indeed, 
was  said  by  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  to  be  a  place 
"  where  ale  and  cakes  are  plenty ; "  but  the  boy's 
wildest  excesses  were  probably  in  the  same  rasp 
berry  tarts  and  ginger  beer  on  which  at  the  Grey 
Friars  a  year  or  two  later  Clive  Newcome  dissipated 
his  pocketful  of  sovereigns.  Poe,  no  doubt,  took  the 
fun,  the  homesickness,  and  the  good  things  as  other 
boys  did;  and  when,  in  the  June  of  1820,  he  left  be 
hind  him  the  old  trees  and  ruinous  houses,  the  mist 
and  fragrance  and  mould  of  the  drowsy  English 
parish,  and  returned  to  Richmond,  he  was  not  much 
different  from  his  mates,  except  that  he  made  his 
first  trials  at  verse  and  kept  the  manuscripts. 

He  arrived  home  with  the  Allans  on  August  2, 
and  at  once  renewed  his  studies  in  the  English  and 
Classical  School  of  Joseph  H.  Clarke,  who  is  de 
scribed  as  a  fiery,  pedantic,  pompous  Irishman  from 
Trinity  College,  Dublin.  Here  he  read  the  ordinary 
classical  authors  of  the  old  preparatory  curriculum, 
continued  his  French,  and  capped  Latin  verses,  a 
pastime  of  which  he  is  reported  to  have  been  fond. 
He  was  lacking  in  diligence  and  accuracy,  but  was 
1  The  Athenceum,  No.  2GGO,  p.  497,  October  19,  1878. 


20  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

quick  and  brilliant,  and  when  it  came  the  turn  of  his 
set  to  be  at  the  top  of  the  school  he  had  but  one 
rival  in  scholarship.  In  athletic  exercises,  the  other 
half  of  youthful  life,  he  was  especially  active,  being 
aided  in  this,  perhaps,  by  the  training  of  the  Manor 
House  playground;  slight  in  figure  at  first,  but 
robust  and  tough,  he  was  a  swift  runner  and  far 
leaper,  and  he  possessed,  together  with  some  skill 
in  boxing,  the  English  school-boy's  readiness  to  use 
it ;  in  particular  he  was  a  fine,  bold  swimmer,  and 
as,  since  Byron,  poets  seem  to  have  a  prescriptive 
right  to  the  mention  of  their  aquatic  feats,  be  it 
once  more  recorded  that  in  his  fifteenth  year  Poe 
swam  in  the  James  River  from  Ludlam's  wharf  to 
Warwick  Bar,  six  miles,  against  a  very  strong  tide 
and  in  a  hot  June  sun,  and  afterwards  walked  back 
to  the  city  with  little  apparent  fatigue.  He  evi 
dently  cut  a  considerable  figure  in  the  school ;  he 
was  its  champion  in  the  simple  tournaments  of  those 
days,  prominent  in  its  debating  society,  and  known 
as  a  versifier  in  both  a  gallant  and  a  satiric  vein, 
—  no  slight  distinction  in  the  eyes  of  the  fellows 
who  listened  to  the  English  ode  in  which,  on  the 
retirement  of  Master  Clarke  to  give  place  to  Mas 
ter  William  Burke,  in  the  fall  of  1823,  he  addressed 
the  outgoing  principal. 

But  neither  his  facile  scholarship,  nor  his  aptness 
in  quoting  jLatin  hexameters  and  stringing  English 
rhymes,  nor  his  fame  in  the  sports  made  him  the 
favorite  of  the  school.  His  aristocratic  mates,  it  is 


EDUCATION.  21 

said  by  one  of  themselves,  remembered  that  he  was 
sprung  from  the  poor  actors,  and  were  averse  to  his 
leadership.  Poe,  too,  partly  it  may  be  because  he 
was  aware  of  the  reason  for  this  slight  but  cutting 
ostracism,  helped  it  by  a  defiant  and  irritable  spirit 
that  sometimes  broke  through  the  restraint-  of  his 
well-bred  manners.  One  who  was  counted  nearer 
to  him  than  the  rest  describes  him  as  u  self-willed, 
capricious,  inclined  to  be  imperious,  and  though  of 
generous  impulses  not  steadily  kind,  or  even  ami 
able."  l  The  indulgence  to  which  he  had  been  ac 
customed  at  home  with  its  resulting  lawlessness  of 
nature,  and  his  marked  ability  with  its  attendant 
intellectual  pride,  contributed  somewhat  to  form 
this  temper ;  but  he  was  always  reserved,  a  quality 
especially  liable  to  misconstruction  by  boys,  and  in 
his  youth  as  in  later  life  he  never  formed  the  habit 
—  he  may  not  have  had  the  power  —  of  making  in 
timate  friends.  No  one,  it  would  seem,  ever  knew 
him.  He  had  his  chums  in  his  own  and  his  fags  in 
the  younger  set,  and  he  showed  them  his  poems  just 
as  he  quoted  Horace,  in  search  of  a  certain  sort,  of 
recognition ;  he  was  sensible  of  affection,  too,  and 
capable  of  warm  attachment,  as  in  his  friendship  for 
young  Sully,  the  artist's  nephew,  who  was  a  refined 
but  difficult  boy ;  amid  all  such  associations,  how 
ever,  he  lived  most  to  himself.  He  was  a  dreamer, 
too,  and  in  the  light  of  his  insubstantial  visions,  as 
well  as  through  ruder  experience,  he  felt  his  solita- 

1  Ingram,  i.  24. 


22  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

riness.  The  sense  of  social  wrong,  the  brooding 
disposition,  the  imaginative  temperament,  the  way 
ward  will,  the  excitable,  impatient,  imperious  nature 
—  these  lines  of  character  were  coming  out,  fainter 
or  stronger,  in  the  moody,  self-conscious  boy,  and 
he  found  himself  alone  and  left  to  his  own  will. 
His  foster-father  was  liberal  in  a  worldly  way,  his 
foster-mother  considerate,  forgiving,  and  faithful, 
but  in  spirit  as  in  blood  he  was  of  a  different  strain 
from  them ;  his  kindred  were  unknown  to  him,  his 
teachers  were  the  merest  pedagogues,  his  compan 
ions  cast  in  another  mould.  It  is  not  meant  that 
all  usual  attention  was  not  given  to  him.  He  was 
not  neglected,  nor  were  his  surroundings  unpleas 
ant.  Mr.  Allan,  although  he  had  not  yet  settled  in 
a  house  of  his  own,  belonged  to  the  most  cultivated 
and  agreeable  society  that  Virginia  knew  in  the  days 
.of  her  old-fashioned  and  justly  famed  courtesy  and 
hospitality,  and  a  childhood  spent  in  association 
with  such  gentlemen  as  Edgar  constantly  and  fa 
miliarly  met  could  not  fail  to  be  both  pleasant  and 
of  the  highest  utility  in  forming  both  manner  and 
character.  A  boy,  however,  is  little  sensible  of  the 
value  of  such  surroundings,  and  in  the  unfolding  of 
his  heart  Poe  may,  amid  all  such  mere  kindliness, 
have  missed  what  to  a  child  of  genius  was  of  far 
more  consequence,  —  responsive  sympathy,  and  the 
secret  understanding  that  springs  from  love.  He 
was,  however  it  happened,  a  lonely  boy. 

Under  these  circumstances  there  is  no  inherent 


EDUCATION.  23 

unlikelihood  in  the  story  that  rests  only  on  his  own 
words,  that  one  clay,  in  the  home  of  a  much  younger 
schoolmate,  when  his  friend's  mother,  lovely,  gen 
tle,  and  gracious,  spoke  to  him  with  some  unusual 
tenderness,  the  tones  thrilled  him  with  a  new  sen 
sation,  and  kindled  within  him,  in  his  own  phrase, 
the  first  purely  ideal  love  of  his  soul.  To  this 
lady,  Jane  Stith  Stanard,  he  became  strongly  at 
tached,  as  a  lonely  boy  of  fourteen,  whose  affections 
were  beginning  to  wander  from  an  unsympathetic 
home,  naturally  would ;  but  she  was  his  confidant 
and  friend  only  for  a  short  time.  She  died  April  28, 
1824,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-one  years ;  and  for  a 
long  while  he  haunted  her  grave  by  night,  brooding 
on  the  mystery  of  the  dead,  and  there  in  the  sigh 
of  the  dry  grasses  and  the  louder  moan  of  autumn 
winds  his  young  heart  caught  the  first  faint  notes  of 
that  paean  of  passionate  regret  and  self-sprung  ter 
ror  which  afterward,  struck  on  his  lyre,  became  the 
lo  Triomphe  of  despair.  The  fascination_jo>£_j]his 
Jady  did  not  cease  with  hen Ufa^-but  grew  with  his 
^earjsj  the  direct  experience  of  death  in  her  loss 
_was  the  ground  on  which  his  imagination  long 
woj*ked^  and  determined  the_jeajJ.y~Jbeiit  of  his  mind 
toward  a  sombre  supernaturalism.  One  need  not 
try  to  disentangle  the  bare  facts  from  this,  as  it 
seems,  almost  legendary  anecdote  ; 1  however  much 
its  romantic  element  may  have  been  heightened, 

1  Edgar  Poe  and  his  Critics,  by  Sarah  Helen  Whitman.     New 
York  :  Kudd  &  Carleton,  1860  :  p.  49. 


24  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

still,  through  all  the  unconscious  transformations  of 
time  and  genius,  the  individuality  of  Poe  is  plainly 
discernible  in  two  of  its  marked  traits,  —  his  ten- 

Idency  to  idealize  a  woman's  memory,  and  the  kin 
ship  of  his  emotional  beliefs  with  superstition. 

Poe  left  Master  Burke's  in  March,  1825,  and 
spent  the  remainder  of  the  year  in  preparing  him 
self,  with  the  aid  of  private  instruction,  for  the 
University  of  Virginia,  then  in  its  first  session. 
In  his  not  too  scanty  leisure  hours  he  nursed  his 
first  flame,  in  the  ordinary  way  of  mortal  love,  by 
his  devotions  to  a  neighbor's  daughter,  younger 
than  himself,  Miss  Sarah  Elmira  Eoyster;  but,  her 
father  diligently  intercepting  all  letters,  this  ro 
mance  ended  on  the  young  lady's  part  in  an  early 
marriage,  and  on  Poe's  in  some  reproachful  stanzas 
d  la  Byron,  wherein  the  rejected  suitor  seeks  to 
immortalize  the  fair  one's  infidelity.  The  inamo 
rata's  reminiscences  of  her  lover,  too,  are  prettily 
conventional :  he  was,  she  says,1  beautiful,  sad,  and 
silent,  but  as  she  adds  that  he  was  fond  of  music 
and  clever  at  his  sketching,  particularly  of  herself, 
he  evidently,  like  undistinguished  youths,  found 
humble  means  to  overcome  the  difficulties  of  con 
versation.  The  most  fondly  recollected  hours  of 
this  year,  however  (the  last  in  which  he  lived  under 
the  same  roof  with  Mr.  Allan),  must  have  been 
spent  in  the  pleasant  and  spacious  home  which 
Mr.  Allan  purchased  in  this  summer  for  his  set- 
1  Appletons'  Journal,  N.  S.,  iv.  429  (May,  1878). 


EDUCATION.  25 

tied  abode.  From  its  high  southward  windows  he 
would  look  down  on  the  green  islands  that  stud  the 
foaming  rapids  of  the  James,  and  see  across  the 
winding  river  the  village  of  Manchester  and  the 
wooded  fields  beyond,  bathed  in  the  warm  after 
noon;  or,  stepping  out  between  the  shutters  upon 
the  adjoining  wide-roofed  balcony  with  its  sanded 
floor,  where  stood  the  fine  London  telescope  that, 
perhaps,  gave  to  his  childish  mind  its  bent  toward 
astronomy,  would  look  at  the  stars,  or  more  idly 
would  watch  the  moonlight  falling  on  the  myrtles 
and  jessamines,  the  box  and  the  fig-trees,  the  grape 
vines  and  raspberry  bushes  planted  by  the  former 
Andalusian  owner  in  the  quiet  garden  close,  which, 
now  wild  and  desolate,  keeps  no  fragrance  save  the 
romance  of  his  memory.  To  that  fair  prospect, 
the  landscape  of  his  innocent  years,  he  was  uncon 
sciously  bidding  farewell. 

On  February  14,  1826,  he  wrote  his  name,  and 
the  place  and  date  of  his  birth,  in  the  matricula 
tion  book  of  the  University  of  Virginia,  and  en 
tered  the  schools  of  ancient  and  modern  languages. 
He  was  now  seventeen  years  old,  somewhat  short  in 
stature,  thick-set,  compact,  bow-legged,  with  the 
rapid  and  jerky  gait  of  an  English  boy ;  his  nat 
ural  shyness  had  become  a  fixed  reserve  ;  his  face, 
clustered  about  by  dark,  curly  hair,  wore  usually 
a  grave  and  melancholy  expression,  the  look  that 
comes  rather  from  the  habit  of  reverie  than  any 
actual  sadness,  but  his  features  would  kindle  with 


26  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

lively  animation  when,  as  frequently  happened,  he 
grew  warm  in  his  cause.  He  divided  his  time,  after 
the  custom  of  undergraduates,  between  the  recita 
tion  room,  the  punch  bowl,  the  card  table,  athletic 
sports,  and  pedestrianism.  He  was  a  member  of 
the  classes  in  Latin  and  Greek,  French,  Spanish, 
and  Italian,  and  attended  them  regularly ;  but  being 
facile  rather  than  studious,  he  did  not  acquire  a 
critical  knowledge  of  these  languages.  Outside  he 
moved  in  a  jolly  set.  At  first  he  had  roomed  with  a 
chum,  one  Miles  George,  of  Richmond,  on  the  lawn, 
to  adopt  the  local  description,  but  after  a  quarrel 
and  pugilistic  duel  in  correct  form  between  them 
(the  combatants  shook  hands  at  the  end  of  it) 
Poe  settled  in  No.  13  West  Range,  decorated  the 
walls  with  charcoal  sketches  out  of  Byron,  and  there 
gathered  the  fellows  to  enjoy  peach  and  honey,  as 
the  delectable  old-time  Southern  punch  was  called, 
and  to  play  at  loo  or  seven-up.  Both  in  drinking 
and  in  card -playing  Poe  acted  capriciously,  and 
either  was  or  affected  to  be  the  creature  of  impulse. 

"Poe's  passion  for  strong  drink,"  writes  one  of  his  in 
timate  college  mates,  "was  as  marked  and  as  peculiar  as 
that  for  cards.  It  was  not  the  taste  of  the  beverage  that 
influenced  him  ;  without  a  sip  or  smack  of  the  mouth 
he  would  seize  a  full  glass,  without  water  or  sugar,  and 
send  it  home  at  a  single  gulp.  This  frequently  used  him 
up  ;  "but  if  not,  he  rarely  returned  to  the  charge."  3 

1  Thomas  Goode  Tucker  to  Douglass  Sherley,  Esq.,  April  5, 
1880.  MS.  The  substance  of  this  and  other  letters  from  Mr. 


EDUCATION.  27 

If  the  full  glass  was  one  of  peach  and  honey,  or 
merely  of  the  peach  brandy  unmixed,  Poe's  suscep 
tibility  to  such  a  draught,  it  should  be  remarked, 
by  no  means  indicates  a  weak  head,  particularly  in 
a  youth  of  seventeen  ;  but  this  fashion  of  drinking 
en  barbare  (as  Baudelaire  styles  it)  he  kept  up 
through  life.  Not  intoxication,  however,  but  gam 
bling,  was  then  his  vice  ;  and  for  this,  too,  as  was 
to  be  expected  from  his  excitable  temperament,  he 
was  ill  adapted,  or  else  luck  ran  strong  against  him, 
since  he  ended  the  year  with  heavy  debts  of  honor. 
By  his  recklessness  in  card-playing  he  is  said  to 
have  lost  caste  in  the  aristocratic  cliques.  What 
ever  his  private  history  may  have  been,  he  did  not 
come  under  the  notice  of  the  Faculty,  which  is 
stated  to  have  been  at  that  time  unusually  watch 
ful  and  strict ;  but  as  the  administration  of  the 
University  was  somewhat  peculiar,  owing  to  the 
theories  of  its  founder,  Jefferson,  an  anecdote  of 
the  time  will  make  the  facts  clearer. 

It  seems  that  the  Faculty  desired  to  check  gam 
bling,  which  had  reached  a  great  height,  and  as  in 
Jefferson's  judgment  as  much  of  the  discipline  as 
possible  should  be  left  to  the  civil  authorities,  ar 
rangements  were  made  to  observe,  indict,  and  try 
the  principal  offenders.  One  morning  the  county 
sheriff  and  his  posse  appeared  at  the  doorway  of  a 

Tucker  was  embodied  by  Mr.  Sherley  in  an  article  in  the  Virginia 
University  Magazine,  1880.  Cf.  "  Edgar  A.  Poe  and  his  College 
Companions,"  New  Orleans  Times-Democrat,  May  18,  1884. 


28  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

lecture  room  where  the  students,  already  warned, 
were  answering  roll-call ;  a  glance  was  enough  for 
suspicion,  and  a  shadow  of  suspicion  for  flight,  as 
they  made  good  their  escape  by  windows  and  doors, 
and,  eluding  pursuit  by  striking  into  an  unfre 
quented  by-path  for  a  wooded  knoll  on  the  skirts 
of  the  Ragged  Mountains,  safe  among  the  hills 
they  enjoyed  their  favorite  diversion  unmolested, 
until  at  the  end  of  a  three  days'  vacation  they  were 
allowed  to  respond  to  the  roll-call  in  peace. 

Under  such  rules  of  government  as  this  story  im 
plies,  freedom  from  censure  by  the  Faculty  is  not 
convincing  proof  of  a  blameless  life ;  but  there  is 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  Poe's  habits,  judged  by 
the  standard  of  morals  that  obtained  where  he  was, 
gave  occasion  for  much  unfavorable  remark,  or  were 
widely  different  from  the  habits  of  those  members 
of  his -own  set  who  became  the  pious  judge  and  the 
acceptable  Episcopalian  clergyman.  He  plunged 
into  debt  as  did  others  whose  extravagance  at  the 
tradesmen's  shops  and  the  hotels  led  to  the  enact 
ment  of  a  statute  that  declared  all  debts  beyond 
the  reasonable  wants  of  a  student  null  and  void. 
But  amid  the  dissipations  of  his  private  life,  he 
found  leisure  to  cultivate  his  own  genius,  and  would 
gather  his  friends  about  him  to  listen  to  some  ex 
travaganza  of  his  invention,  read  in  declamatory 
tones,  or  to  some  poem  he  had  made  during  his  long 
solitary  rambles  in  the  Ragged  Mountains.  He 
still  had  no  confidential  friends.  "  No  one  knew 


EDUCATION.  29 

him,"  is  the  unanimous  testimony  of  his  classmates ; 
but  they  all  describe  him  consistently  in  terms  that 
show  he  was  a  spirited  youth,  who  led  a  self-ab 
sorbed  life,  frequently  of  hig%h  intensity,  but  was 
easily  diverted  into  the  commonplace  pleasures  of 
a  fashionable  set,  and  probably  entered  on  them 
with  the  more  recklessness  because  of  his  habitual 
reserve.  While  Poe  was  still  at  the  University, 
however,  Mr.  Allan  thought  it  best  to  inquire  into 
the  state  of  his  affairs  personally,  and  went  up  to 
Charlottesville,  where  he  paid  all  of  his  debts  that 
he  thought  just ;  but,  not  being  a  father  to  take 
his  boy's  luck  without  wincing,  he  refused  to  honor 
losses  at  play,  which  amounted  to  about  twenty- 
five  hundred  dollars.1  At  the  close  of  the  session, 
December  15,  1826,  Poe  came  home  with  the  high 
est  honors  in  Latin  and  French ;  but  this  did  not 
mollify  his  guardian,  who,  instead  of  allowing  him 
to  return,  placed  him  in  his  own  counting-room. 
From  this  confinement  Poe  soon  broke,  and  went 
out  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  world. 

1  Edgar  Allan  Poe.    A  letter  by  Colonel  Thomas  H.  Ellis  to 
the  editor  of  the  Richmond  Standard,  April  22,  1881. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WANDERINGS. 

POE  made  his  way  at  once  towards  Boston,  and 
there  in  the  spring  tried  to  make  a  good  start  in 
the  world  by  publishing  his  youthful  verses.  He 
persuaded  Calvin  F.  S.  Thomas,  a  poor  youth  of 
nineteen,  who  had  just  set  up  a  shop  at  70  Wash 
ington  Street,  to  undertake  the  job,  and  in  due 
course  he  saw  the  first  and  unacknowledged  heir  of 
his  invention  in  the  shape  of  a  small,  thin  book, 
mean  in  appearance  and  meagre  in  contents,  en 
titled  "  Tamerlane  and  other  Poems."  1  This  vol 
ume,  the  only  venture  of  Thomas  in  the  book-trade, 
was  published  about  midsummer;  its  receipt  was 
advertised  by  the  leading  magazines,2  and  two  years 

1  Tamerlane   and    other    Poems.     By    a    Bostonian.     Boston : 
Calvin  F.  S.  Thomas  .  .  .  Printer.     1827,  pp.  40.     The  volume 
contained,  besides  preface  and  notes,  Tamerlane  and  nine  fugi 
tive  pieces  :  1.  To . ("  I  saw  thee  on  the  bridal  day  ")  ; 

2.  Dream's;  3.  Visit  of  the  Dead;  4.  Evening  Star ;  5.  Imitation; 

6.  No  title  ("  In  youth  have  I  known  one  with  whom  the  earth  ") ; 

7.  No  title  ("A  wilder'd  being  from  my  birth  ") ;  8.  No  title  ("  The 
happiest  day  —  the  happiest  hour  ") ;  9.  The  Lake.    Of  these  Tam 
erlane  and  the  first,  third,  and  ninth  of  the  short  poems  are  in 
cluded  in   revised  versions  of  Foe's  works.     Vide   Mr.  Richard 
Herne  Shepard's  reprint,  London,  1884. 

2  The  United  States  Review  and  Literary  Gazette,  ii.  399  (Aug. 
1827) ;  The  North  American  Review,  xxv.  471  (Oct.  1827). 


WANDERINGS.  31 

later,  although  the  edition  was  small  and  obscure, 
it  was  still  sufficiently  known  to  find  mention  in  the 
first  comprehensive  work  on  American  Poetry.1 

It  passed  into  circulation  such  as  is  indicated 
by  these  contemporary  notices,  and  in  view  of  that 
fact  Poe's  statement  that  it  was  suppressed  for 
private  reasons  counts  for  little.  It  may  as  well 
be  confessed  at  once  that  any  unsupported  asser 
tion  by  Poe  regarding  himself  is  to  be  received 
with  great  caution.  In  this  case,  as  will  presently 
be  seen,  his  circumstances  give  no  plausibility  to 
his  story. 

There  is,  perhaps,  more  color  of  truth  in  the 
claim  put  forth  in  his  boyishly  affected  preface  that 
this  volume  was  written  in  1821-22.  As  that  was 
the  time  when  his  mind  would  naturally  rapidly 
unfold,  and,  as  the  statement  agrees  with  the  tra 
dition  of  a  manuscript  volume  shown  to  Master 
Clarke  by  Mr.  Allan,  in  order  to  obtain  the  for 
mer's  advice  respecting  its  publication,  it  is  prob 
able  that  some  of  the  poems  at  least  were  then 
drafted ;  but  from  the  passages  that  reveal  the  de 
pressing  influence  of  his  own  home  and  imply  his 
experience  of  love  and  death,  as  well  as  from  what 
is  recorded  of  his  habits  at  the  University,  it  is 
clear  that  they  were  re-written,  and  really  rep 
resent  his  genius  at  the  stage  it  was  in  when 
they  were  printed.  The  precocity  of  the  verses  is 

1  Specimens  of  American  Poetry,  by  Samuel  Kettell.  Boston  : 
S.  G.  Goodrich  &  Co.,  1829  :  iii.  p.  405. 


32  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

parked,  but  it  is  a  full-grown  youth,  not  a  child 
of  thirteen,  who  has  been  bitten  by  the  Byronic 
malady ;  and,  indeed,  striking  as  they  are,  their 
relief  is  mainly  due  to  the  light  flashed  back  on 
them^from  Poe's  perfect  work. 

"  Tamerlane "  in  its  first  form  shows  more 
poetic  susceptibility,  if  less  literary  power,  than  in 
its  present  one.  In  the  story  itself  there  is  little 
difference  between  the  two  versions.  In  both  the 
great  conqueror  relates  to  a  conventional  friar  how, 
in  his  boyhood,  among  the  mountains  of  Taglay, 
he  had  loved  a  maiden,  and  stirred  alike  by  his 
ambition  for  her  and  for  himself  had  one  day  de 
termined  to  go  away  and  seek  the  empire  which 
the  prescience  of  genius  assured  him  would  be  his. 
In  pursuit  of  this  plan,  he  says,  without  giving  any 
hint  of  his  departure  or  its  purpose,  he  left  her 
asleep  in  a  matted  bower ;  and  naturally  enough 
when,  after  the  fulfillment  of  his  hopes,  he  returned 
to  seat  her  on  "  the  throne  of  half  the  world,"  he 
found  his  destined  bride  had  died  in  consequence' 
of  his  desertion.  Hinc  illce  lachrymce. 

Neither  in  this  tale,  nor  in  the  nine  fugitive 
pieces  of  a  personal  character  which  followed  it, 
was  there  anything  to  command  public  attention, 
especially  as  the  style  and  spirit  were  distinctively 
imitative,  the  constructions  involved,  the  meaning 
dark,  and  the  measure  as  lame  as  the  old  Tartar 
himself  is  fabled  to  have  been.  The  interest  of 
the  volume  now  lies  partly  in  its  plainly  autobio- 


WANDERINGS.  33 

graphical  passages,  such  as  those  which  describe 
how  conscious  genius  takes  its  own  impulse  for  the 
unerring  divine  instinct,  or  express  the  poet's  naive 
and  slightly  bitter  resentment  on  finding  himself 
not  a  prophet  in  his  own  household  ;  and  partly  in 
the  subtler  self-revelation  afforded  by  the  reflection 
of  passing  poetic  moods,  which  it  may  be  remarked 
are  surer  signs  of  promise  than  poetic  ideas,  be 
cause,  although  they  may  as  easily  become  conven 
tional,  they  cannot  be  so  successfully  appropriated 
from  others  by  patience  and  art,  nor  can  their 
language  ever  ring  true  except  numine  prcesenti 
by  the  very  breath  of  the  indwelling  Apollo.  Slow, 
confined,  and  stammering  as  is  their  expression  in 
these,  earliest  poems,  they  show  that,  however  af 
fected  by  the  artificiality  and  turgidity,  the  false 
sentiment,  the  low  motive,  and  the  sensational  ac 
cessories  of  the  Byronic  model,  the  young  poet 
turned  naturally  to  his  own  experience,  and  could 
write  from  his  heart. 

In  particular,  two  characteristics  come  out  as 
primary  in  Poe's  nature.  He  was  one  of  the 
proudest  of  men,  and  from  many  expressions  here 
it  is  plain  that  he  cultivated  pride,  even  in  boy 
hood.  He  thought  it  the  distinctive  manly  quality. 
He  declares  with  emphasis  that  every  nobly  en 
dowed  soul,  conscious  of  its  power,  will  ever 

"  Find  Pride  the  ruler  of  its  will." 


Byron  had  sown  the  evil  seed,  but  it  had  fallen  in 


34  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

very  favorable  soil.  This  personal  trait,  however, 
needs  only  to  be  glanced  at  in  passing.  The  second 
characteristic  belongs  rather  to  his  temperament, 
and  affected  his  art  more  directly.  The  sight  of 
beauty  did  not  affect  his  aesthetic  sense  so  much  as 
it  aroused  his  dreaming  faculty.  He  looks  out  on 
the  world  as  a  vague  and  undefined  delight ;  he 
notes  only  the  broad  and  general  features  of  the 
landscape ;  he  does  not  see  any  object  in  detail ;  his 
imagination  so  predominates  over  his  perceptive 
powers,  he  is  so  much  more  poet  than  artist,  that  he 
loses  the  beautiful  in  the  suggestions,  the  reveries, 
the  feelings,  it  awakens,  and  this  emotion  is  the 
value  he  found  in  beauty  throughout  his  life.  The 
mood  was  a  part  of  his  ordinary  experience.  Some 
times  he  describes  it :  — 

"  In  spring  of  life  have  ye  ne'er  dwelt 
Some  object  of  delight  upon, 
With  steadfast  eye,  till  ye  have  felt 
The  earth  reel  —  and  the  vision  gone  ?  " 

Sometimes  he  expresses  it  (and  in  the  lines  is  heard 
the  first  whisper  of  "  Ligeia  ")  :  — 

"  'T  was  the  chilly  wind 
Came  o'er  me  in  the  night,  and  left  behind 
Its  image  on  my  spirit." 

This  exaltation  is  continually  the  object  of  his  re 
grets  and  of  his  longings ;  he  ascribes  to  it  a  sym 
bolic  spiritual  meaning,  and  even  a  moral  power, 

as  being  something 

"  given 
In  beauty  by  our  God,  to  those  alone 


WANDERINGS.  35 

Who  otherwise  would  fall  from  life  and  Heaven 
Drawn  by  their  heart's  passion  "  — 

This  value,  whether  true  or  false,  which  he  gave  to 
such  emotional  moods,  is  the  significant  thing  in  his 
poetic  life,  and  shows  that  the  dreaming  faculty  was 
a  primary  element  in  his  genius.  Sometimes,  it  is 
true,  the  real  scene  remains  prominent  in  his  mind ; 
but  even  then,  although  it  does  not  fade  away  into 
mere  emotion,  it  is  not  unchanged ;  it  ceases  to  be 
natural,  and  is  removed  into  the  preternatural.  In 
two  of  these  early  poems  —  "  The  Lake  "  and  "  Visit 
of  the  Dead"  —is  this  the  case,  and  it  is  noticeable 
that  Poe  retained  both  among  his  works,  as  if  he 
perceived  that  of  all  in  this  collection  they  alone 
have  his  peculiar  touch.  In  the  latter,  especially, 
the  treatment  of  landscape  is  wholly  his  own  ;  crude 
as  its  expression  is,  it  affords  the  first  glimpse  of 
that  new  tract  of  Acheron,  as  it  were,  which  he 
revealed  "  out  of  space,  out  of  time  :  "  — 

"  And  the  stars  shall  look  not  down 
From  their  thrones,  in  the  dark  heaven, 
With  light  like  Hope  to  mortals  given, 
But  their  red  orbs,  without  beam, 
To  thy  withering  heart  shall  seem. 
As  a  burning,  and  a  fever 
Which  would  cling  to  thee  forever. 
But 't  will  leave  thee,  as  each  star 
In  the  morning  light  afar 
Will  fly  thee  "  — 

Such  imaginings  —  the  vision  of  the  throned  stars 
with  averted  faces,  the  identifying  of  the  outer  fas 
cination  of  an  ill-omened  nature  with  the  mortal 


36  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

fever  within,  the  dissolving  of  the  spell  as  the  red 
orbs  flee  far  in  the  streaming  eastern  light  —  might 
well  portend  in  poetry  a  genius  as  original  as  was 
Blake's  in  art. 

The  abundant  alloy  in  the  substance  of  the  work, 
however,  and  the  rudeness  of  its  execution  justly 
condemned  the  volume  to  speedy  oblivion.  It 
brought  neither  fame  to  the  poet  nor  money  to  the 
printer,  and  shortly  after  its  publication  the  dis 
appearance  of  Poe,  which  had  already  occurred, 
was  followed  by  the  removal  of  Thomas  to  New 
York.  Neither  in  his  stay  in  that  city  nor  during 
his  later  life  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  and  Springfield, 
Mo.,  did  Thomas,  who  lived  until  1876,  ever  men 
tion,  either  to  his  own  family  or,  so  far  as  is 
known,  to  his  friends  or  associates,  that  his  first 
venture  in  the  book-trade  was  Poe's  verses.  In 
view  of  this  fact,1  in  connection  with  the  general 
publication  of  reminiscences  by  all  who  were  ever 
well  acquainted  with  Poe,  and  the  special  interest 
of  this  obscure  portion  of  his  life,  it  may  be  safely 
inferred  that  Thomas  never  identified  the  first  au 
thor  he  knew  with  the  famous  poet  who  wrote 
"  The  Raven."  The  obvious  conclusion  is  that  Poe 
lived  in  Boston  under  an  assumed  name. 

Whether  this  were  so  or  not,  a  few  months  had 
sufficed  to  exhaust  Poe's  resources,  and  he  now 
found  himself,  a  youth  of  eighteen,  poor  and  friend- 

1  Mrs.  Martha  (Thomas)  Booth  to  the  author,  June  14,  1884. 


WANDERINGS.  37 

less  in  the  city  of  his  birth,  and  without  means  of 
self-support.  In  this  extremity  he  took  the  readiest 
way  out  of  his  difficulties,  and  on  May  26  enlisted 
at  Boston  in  the  army  of  the  United  States  as  a 
private  soldier,  under  the  name  of  Edgar  A.  Perry.1 
He  stated  that  he  was  born  at  Boston  and  was 
by  occupation  a  clerk ;  and  although  minors  were 
then  accepted  into  the  service,  he  gave  his  age  as 
twenty-two  years.  He  had,  says  the  record,  gray 
eyes,  brown  hair,  and  a  fair  complexion,  and  was 
five  feet  eight  inches  in  height.  He  was  at  once 
assigned  to  Battery  H,  of  the  First  Artillery,  then 
serving  in  the  harbor  at  Fort  Independence  ;  on 
October  31,  the  battery  was  ordered  to  Fort  Moul- 
trie,  Charleston,  S.  C.,  and  exactly  one  year  later 
was  again  transferred  to  Fortress  Monroe,  Va. 
The  character  of  Poe's  life  during  this  period  can 
now  be  but  imperfectly  made  out,  since  the  officers 
under  whom  he  served  are  dead  ;  but  from  papers 
presently  to  be  given,  it  appears  that  he  discharged 
his  duties  as  company  clerk  and  assistant  in  the 
commissariat  department  so  as  to  win  the  good  will 
of  his  superiors,  and  was  in  all  respects  a  faithful 
and  efficient  soldier.  On  January  1,  1829,  he  was 
appointed  Sergeant-Major,  a  promotion  which,  by 
the  invariable  custom  of  the  army,  was  made  only 
for  merit. 

1  These  statements  are  based  on  the  papers  relating  to  Edgar 
A.  Perry,  or  Poe,  now  on  file  in  the  War  Department,  of  which 
certified  copies  were  sent  to  the  author. 


38 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 


At  some  time  after  reaching  Fortress  Monroe  he 
is  said  to  have  made  his  situation  known  to  Mr. 
Allan.  It  is  not  unlikely  thaUiis  officers,  becom 
ing  acquainted  wrjJTjiTS_^JTilj>,y^ajid  p.rln cation.,  and 

bemgTirtefested.  nTliis  character,  urgedjiis  endeav- 
^  which 

he-^ouI3Trise  in_the__serYice}j^aiid  advised  his  ap- 
plyingToTiis  foster-father  for  aid.  How  Mr.  Allan 
reeetve^£hls~news  cannot,  unfortunately,  be  deter 
mined  ;  but  as  he  apparently  did  not  move  in  the 
matter  until  after  the  mortal  illness  of  his  wife, 
there  is  ground  for  the  inference  that  he  recalled 
the  wanderer  in  compliance  with  her  dying  request. 
At  all  events,  it  seems  to  have  been  some  days  after 
Mrs.  Allan's  death,  which  occurred  February  28, 
1829,  that  Poe  returned  to  Richmond  on  leave  of 
absence  granted  by  his  colonel  on  Mr.  Allan's  ap 
plication.  The  result  of  his  visit  is  told  in  the 
following  letter,  which  betrays  a  surprising  inac 
curacy  in  some  of  its  details  :  — 

FORTRESS  MONROE,  March  30th,  '29. 

GENERAL : 

I  request  your  permission  to  discharge  from  the  ser 
vice  Edgar  A.  Perry,  at  present  the  Sergeant-Major  of 
the  1st  Reg't  of  Artillery,  on  his  procuring  a  substitute. 

The  said  Perry  is  one  of  a  family  of  orphans  whose 
unfortunate  parents  were  the  victims  of  the  conflagration 
of  the  Richmond  theatre  in  1809.  The  subject  of  this 
letter  was  taken  under  the  protection  of  a  Mr.  Allen, 
a  gentleman  of  wealth  and  respectability,  of  that  city, 


WANDERINGS.  39 

who,  as  I  understand,  adopted  his  protege  as  his  son  and 
heir ;  with  the  intention  of  giving  him  a  liberal  educa 
tion,  he  had  placed  him  at  the  University  of  Virginia 
from  which,  after  considerable  progress  in  his  studies,  in 
a  moment  of  youthful  indiscretion  he  absconded,  and 
was  not  heard  from  by  his  Patron  for  several  years  ; 
in  the  mean  time,  he  became  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
enlisting  into  the  service  and  accordingly  entered  as  a 
soldier  in  my  Regiment,  at  Fort  Independence  in  1827. 
—  Since  the  arrival  of  his  company  at  this  place,  he  has 
made  his  situation  known  to  his  Patron  at  whose  request, 
the  young  man  has  been  permitted  to  visit  him  ; 1  the 
result  is,  an  entire  reconciliation  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Al 
len,  who  reinstates  him  into  his  family  and  favor,  and 
who  in  a  letter  I  have  received  from  him  requests  that 
his  son  may  be  discharged  on  procuring  a  substitute  ; 
an  experienced  soldier  and  approved  sergeant  is  ready 
to  take  the  place  of  Perry  so  soon  as  his  discharge  can 
be  obtained.  The  good  of  the  service,  therefore  cannot 
be  materially  injured  by  the  discharge. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

With  great  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 
JAS.  HOUSE, 

Col.  1st  Arty. 

To  the  General  Commanding  the 
E.  Dept.  U.  S.  A.,  New  York. 

The  official  reply  to  this  application  was  an 
order,  dated  April  4,  in  accordance  with  which 
Poe  was  discharged,  by  substitute,  April  15.  Be 
fore  leaving  his  post  he  obtained  the  following 
letters  from  his  officers,  which  show  conclusively 
1  There  is  no  record  of  this  furlough. 


40  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

that  he  had  already  formed  the  plan  of  entering 
West  Point,  and  indicate  that  this  entered  into  the 
understanding  on  which  Mr.  Allan  took  Kim  into 
favor : — 

FORTRESS  MONROE,  VA.,  20th  Apl  1829. 
Edgar  Poe,  late  Serg't-Major  in  the  1st  Art'y?  served 
under  my  command  in  H.  company  1st  Reg't  of  Artil 
lery,  from  June  1827  to  January  1829,  during  which 
time  his  conduct  was  unexceptionable.  He  at  once  per 
formed  the  duties  of  company  clerk  and  assistant  in 
the  Subsistent  Department,  both  of  which  duties  were 
promptly  and  faithfully  done.  His  habits  are  good  and 
intirely  free  from  drinking. 

J.  HOWARD, 
Lieut.  1st  Artillery. 

In  addition  to  the  above,  I  have  to  say  that  Edgar 
Poe1  was  appointed  Sergeant-Major  of  the  1st  Art'y : 
on  the  1st  of  Jan'y,  1829,  and  up  to  this  date,  has  been 
exemplary  in  his  deportment,  prompt  and  faithful  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties  —  and  is  highly  worthy  of  con 
fidence. 

H.  W.  GRISWOLD, 
Bt.  Capt.  and  Adjt.  1st  Art'y. 

I  have  known  and  had  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  conduct  of  the  above  mentioned  Serg't-Majr.  Poe 
some  three  months  during  which  his  deportment  has 
been  highly  praiseworthy  and  deserving  of  confidence. 
His  education  is  of  a  very  high  order  and  he  appears  to 
be  free  from  bad  habits,  in  fact  the  testimony  of  Lt. 
Howard  and  Adjt.  Griswold  is  full  to  that  point.  Un- 
1  Originally  written  Perry,  but  changed  to  read  Poe. 


WANDERINGS.  41 

derstanding  he  is,  thro'  his  friends,  an  applicant  for  ca 
det's  warrant,  I  unhesitatingly  recommend  him  as  prom 
ising  to  aquit  himself  of  the  obligations  of  that  station 
studiously  and  faithfully. 

W.  J.  WOKTH, 
Lt.  Col.  ComcPg  Fortress  Monroe. 

With  these  credentials  in  his  pocket,  the  dis 
charged  Sergeant  -  Major,  aged  twenty,  went  to 
Richmond,  where  no  time  was  lost  in  attempting  to 
place  him  at  West  Point.  At  Mr.  Allan's  request, 
Andrew  Stevenson,  the  Speaker  of  the  House,  and 
Major  John  Campbell,  under  date  of  May  6,  also 
wrote  letters  of  recommendation,  not  of  any  inter 
est  now  ;  and  a  week  later  James  P.  Preston,  the 
father  of  one  of  Poe's  ctoser  school  friends  and 
representative  of  the  district  in  Congress,  lent  his 
influence  in  these  terms  :  — 

RICHMOND,  VA.,  May  13th,  1829. 

SIR: 

Some  of  the  friends  of  young  Mr.  Edgar  Poe  have 
solicited  me  to  address  a  letter  to  you  in  his  favor  be 
lieving  that  it  may  be  useful  to  him  in  his  application 
to  the  Government  for  military  service.  I  know  Mr. 
Poe  and  am  acquainted  with  the  fact  of  his  having  been 
born  under  circumstances  of  great  adversity.  I  also 
know  from  his  own  productions  and  other  undoubted 
proofs  that  he  is  a  young  gentleman  of  genius  and  tal- 
eants.  I  believe  he  is  destined  to  be  distinguished,  since 
he  has  already  gained  reputation  for  taleants  and  attain 
ments  at  the  University  of  Virginia.  I  think  him  pos 
sessed  of  feeling  and  character  peculiarly  intitling  him 


42  SDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

to  public  patronage.  I  am  entirely  satisfied  that  the 
salutary  system  of  military  discipline  will  soon  develope 
his  honorable  feelings,  and  elevated  spirit,  and  prove 
him  worthy  of  confidence.  I  would  not  write  in  his 
recommendation  if  I  did  not  believe  that  he  would  re 
munerate  the  Government  at  some  future  day,  by  his 
services  and  taleants,  for  whatever  maybe  done  for  him. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be 

Very  respectfully  your  obt.  serv't, 

JAMES  P.  PRESTON. 
MAJOR  JOHN  EATON,  Sec'y  of  War,  Washington. 

Of  more  interest  than  all  these,  however,  is  Mr. 
Allan's  own  communication  :  — 

RICHMOND,  May  6th,  1829. 
DRSm: 

The  youth  who  presents  this,  is  the  same  alluded  to  by 
Lt.  Howard,  Capt.  Griswold  Colo.  Worth,  our  represen 
tative  and  the  speaker,  the  Hon'ble  Andrew  Stevenson, 
and  my  friend  Major  Jno.  Campbell. 

He  left  me  in  consequence  of  some  gambling  at  the 
University  at  Charlottes ville,  because  (I  presume)  I  re 
fused  to  sanction  a  rule  that  the  shopkeepers  and  others 
had  adopted  there,  making  Debts  of  Honour  of  all  indis 
cretions.  I  have  much  pleasure  in  asserting  that  he  stood 
his  examination  at  the  close  of  the  year  with  great  credit 
to  himself.  His  history  is  short.  He  is  the  grandson  of 
Quartermaster  General  Poe,  of  Maryland,  whose  widow 
as  I  understand  still  receives  a  pension  for  the  services 
or  disabilities  of  her  husband.  Frankly  Sir,  do  I  declare 
that  he  is  no  relation  to  me  whatever ;  that  I  have  many 
[in]  whom  I  have  taken  an  active  interest  to  promote 


WANDERINGS.  <*  43 

theirs  ;  with  no  other  feeling  than  that,  every  man  is  my 
care,  if  he  be  in  distress.  For  myself  I  ask  nothing,  but 
I  do  request  your  kindness  to  aid  this  youth  in  the  pro 
motion  of  his  future  prospects.  And  it  will  afford  me 
great  pleasure  to  reciprocate  any  kindness  you  can  show 
him.  Pardon  my  frankness  ;  but  I  address  a  soldier. 
Your  ob'd't  se'v't,  JOHN  ALLAN. 

THE  HON'BLE  JOHN  H.  EATON, 
Sec'y  of  War,  Washington  City. 

The  coldness  of  feeling  with  which  Mr.  Allan 
here  classes  the  boy  he  had  brought  up  almost 
from  infancy  with  the  objects  of  his  general  char 
ity  might  lead  one  to  believe  that  possibly  lie  did 
not  intend  to  make  Poe  his  heir,  but  on  the  con 
trary  thought  to  be  honorably  rid  of  the  burden  of 
further  patronage  by  having  paid  a  sum  of  money 
for  a  substitute  in  the  army,  and  helping  to  open  a 
career  for  his  protege*  in  his  self-chosen  profession. 
Such  a  letter  must  have  been  galling  to  Poe's 
pride.  He  presented  it  with  the  others  to  the  Sec 
retary  of  War  in  person. 

On  this  journey  to  Washington  he  made  the 
closer  acquaintance  of  his  blood  relations  in  Balti 
more,  where,  pending  his  appointment  as  a  cadet, 
he  now  determined  to  publish  his  second  volume  of 
poems,  the  fruit  of  his  leisure  in  the  army.  He  also 
entered  into  some  obscure  relations  with  William 
Gwynn,  Esq.,  then  editor  of  the  "  Federal  Gazette 
and  Baltimore  Daily  Advertiser,"  and  showed  him 
the  manuscript  of  "Al  Aaraaf,"  which  was  de- 


44  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

clared  to  be  "  indicative  of  a  tendency  to  anything 
but  the  business  of  matter-of-fact  life."  l  For  his 
introduction  the  poet  was  probably  indebted  to 
Neilson  Poe,  his  cousin  at  the  third  remove,  who 
was  emploj^ed  in  Gwynn's  office ;  and  possibly,  as 
has  been  stated,  it  was  at  the  suggestion  of  Neil- 
son's  father,  George  Poe,  that  he  also  sought  the 
critical  advice  of  John  Neal,  who  had  resided  in 
Baltimore  some  few  years  before,  and  was  now  e^jt- 
ing  the  "  Yankee  "  at  Boston.  In  the  correspond 
ence  columns  of  that  periodical,  in  its  issue  for 
September,  1829,  the  following  appeared :  — 

"  If  E.  A.  P.  of  Baltimore  — whose  lines  about  Heaven, 
though  he  professes  to  regard  them  as  altogether  supe 
rior  to  anything  in  the  whole  range  of  American  poetry, 
save  two  or  three  trifles  referred  to,  are,  though  non 
sense,  rather  exquisite  nonsense  —  would  but  do  himself 
justice,  might  [sic]  make  a  beautiful  and  perhaps  a  mag 
nificent  poem.  There  is  a  good  deal  here  to  justify  such 
a  hope. 

Dim  vales  and  shadowy  floods 
And  cloudy-looking  woods, 
Whose  forms  we  can't  discover, 
For  the  tears  that  —  drip  all  over. 

The  moonlight 

falls 

Over  hamlets,  over  halls, 

Wherever  they  may  be, 

O'er  the  strange  woods,  o'er  the  sea  — 

1   Works,  i.  cl. 


WANDERINGS. 

O'er  spirits  on  the  wing, 
O'er  every  drowsy  thing  — 
And  buries  them  up  quite 
In  a  labyrinth  of  light, 
,  And  then  how  deep !  —  Oh  deep  ! 
Is  the  passion  of  their  sleep  ! 

He  should  have  signed  it  Bah !     We  have  no  room  for 
others."  l 

The  tone  of  this  indicates  that  Poe  was  not 
backed  by  any  strong  personal  friend  of  the  critic. 
He  received  the  doubtful  satire  with  good  grace, 
however,  and  replied  in  a  letter  printed  in  the 
December  issue,  and  prefaced  by  these  editorial 
remarks :  — 

"The  following  passages  are  from  the  manuscript 
works  of  a  young  author,  about  to  be  published  in  Balti 
more.  He  is  entirely  a  stranger  to  us,  but  with  all  their 
faults,  if  the  remainder  of  '  Al  Aaraaf '  and  '  Tamerlane ' 
are  as  good  as  the  body  of  the  extracts  here  given  —  to 
say  nothing  of  the  more  extraordinary  parts,  he  will  de 
serve  to  stand  high  —  very  high  —  in  the  estimation 'of  the 
shining  brotherhood.  Whether  he  will  do  so  however, 
must  depend,  not  so  much  upon  his  worth  now  in  mere 
poetry,  as  upon  his  worth  hereafter  in  something  yet 
loftier  and  more  generous  —  we  allude  to  the  stronger 
properties  of  the  mind,  to  the  magnanimous  determina 
tion  that  enables  a  youth  to  endure  the  present,  whatever 
the  present  may  be,  in  the  hope,  or  rather  in  the  belief, 
the  fixed,  unwavering  belief,  that  in  the  future  he  will 
find  his  reward." 

1  The  Yankee  and  Boston  Literary  Gazette,  iii.  168  (new  series). 


46  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

The  poet's  letter  follows :  — 

"  I  am  young  —  not  yet  twenty  —  am  a  poet  —  if  deep 
worship  of  all  beauty  can  make  me  one  —  and  wish  to  be 
so  in  the  more  common  meaning  of  the  word.  I  would 
give  the  world  to  embody  one  half  the  ideas  afloat  in  my 
imagination.  (By  the  way,  do  you  remember  —  or  did 
you  ever  read  the  exclamation  of  Shelley  about  Shake 
speare  ?  — '  What  a  number  of  ideas  must  have  been 
afloat  before  such  an  author  could  arise  !  ')  I  appeal  to 
you  as  a  man  that  loves  the  same  beauty  which  I  adore 

—  the  beauty  of  the  natural  blue  sky  and  the  sunshiny 
earth  —  there  can  be  no  tie  more   strong  than  that  of 
brother  for  brother  —  it  is  not  so  much  that  they  love 
one  another,  as  that  they  both  love  the  same  parent  — 
their  affections  are  always  running  in  the  same  direction 

—  the  same  channel  —  and  cannot  help  mingling.     I  am, 
and  have  been  from  my  childhood,  an  idler.     It  cannot 
therefore  be  said  that 

" '  I  left  a  calling  for  this  idle  trade, 

A  duty  broke  —  a  father  disobeyed '  — 

for  I  have  no  father  —  nor  mother. 

"  I  am  about  to  publish  a  volume  of  '  Poems,'  the 
greater  part  written  before  I  was  fifteen.  Speaking 
about  '  Heaven '  the  editor  of  the  '  Yankee '  says,  '  He 
might  write  a  beautiful,  if  not  a  magnificent  poem  '  — 
(the  very  first  words  of  encouragement  I  ever  remember 
to  have  heard).  I  am  very  certain  that  as  yet  I  have 
not  written  either  —  but  that  I  can,  I  will  take  oath  —  if 
they  will  give  me  time. 

"The  poems  to  be  published  are  'Al  Aaraaf  — 
*  Tamerlane '  —  one  about  four,  and  the  other  about 


WANDERINGS.  47 

three  hundred  lines,  with  smaller  pieces.  *  Al  Aaraaf ' 
has  some  good  poetry,  and  much  extravagance,  which  I 
have  not  had  time  to  throw  away. 

"  '  Al  Aaraaf  '  is  a  tale  of  another  world  —  the  star 
discovered  by  Tycho  Brahe,  which  appeared  and  disap 
peared  so  suddenly  —  or  rather,  it  is  no  tale  at  all.  I 
will  insert  an  extract  about  the  palace  of  its  presiding 
Deity,  in  which  you  will  see  that  I  have  supposed  many 
of  the  lost  sculptures  of  our  world  to  have  flown  (in  spirit) 
to  the  star  *  Al  Aaraaf '  —  a  delicate  place  more  suited 
to  their  divinity  :  — 

'  Uprear'd  upon  such  height  arose  a  pile/  etc." 

After  Poe's  quotations  from  this  poem  and  "  Tam 
erlane,"  and  from  the  verses  now  known  in  a  re 
vised  form  as  "A  Dream  within  a  Dream,"  the 
editor  concludes :  — 

"  Having  allowed  our  youthful  writer  to  be  heard  in 
his  own  behalf,  —  what  more  can  we  do  for  the  lovers  of 
genuine  poetry  ?  Nothing.  They  who  are  judges  will 
not  need  more ;  and  they  who  are  not  —  why  waste 
words  upon  them  ?  We  shall  not."  l 

The  volume  2  which  gave  rise  to  this  correspond- 

1  The  Yankee  and  Boston  Literary   Gazette,  vi.  295-298   (new 
series). 

2  Al  Aaraaf,  Tamerlane,  and  Minor  Poems,  by  Edgar  A.  Poe. 
Baltimore:  Hatch  &  Dunning,  1829  :  pp.71.    This  volume  begins 
with  an  unentitled  sonnet,  the  first  draft  of  To  Science,  contin 
ues  with  Al  Aaraaf  and.  Tamerlane,  both  nearly  as  now  printed, 
and  concludes  with  a  Preface,  now  known,  revised,  as  Romance, 

and  nine  miscellaneous  poems  :  1.   To ("  Should  my  early  life 

seem"),  forty  lines,  now  printed,  revised,  as  A  Dream  within  a 


48  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

ence  was  published  at  the  close  of  the  year.  It  was 
a  thin  book,  but  respectably  printed,  with  a  pro 
fusion  of  extra  leaves  bearing  mottoes  from  Eng 
lish  and  Spanish  poets,  and  with  liberal  margins. 
"Al  Aaraaf,"  the  leading  poem,  is  generally  re 
garded  as  incomprehensible.  Its  obscurity  is  largely 
due  to  Poe's  attempting,  not  only  to  tell  a  story,  but 
also  to  express  in  an  allegoric  form  some  truth  which 
he  had  arrived  at  amid  the  uneventful  leisure  of 
the  barracks.  In  the  rapid  growth  of  his  intelli 
gence,  beauty,  which  had  been  merely  a  source  of 
emotion,  became  an  object  of  thought,  —  an  idea 
as  well  as  an  inspiration.  It  was  the  first  of  the 
great  moulding  ideas  of  life  that  he  apprehended. 
Naturally  his  juvenile  fancy  at  once  personified  it 
as  a  maiden,  Nesace,  and,  seeking  a  realm  for  her 
to  preside  over,  found  it  in  Al  Aaraaf,  —  not  the 
narrow  wall  between  heaven  and  hell  which  in 
Moslem  mythology  is  the  place  of  the  dead  who  are 
neither  good  nor  bad,  but  the  burning  star  ob 
served  by  Tycho  Brahe,  which  the  poet  imagines  to 
be  the  abode  of  those  spirits,  angelic  or  human, 

Dream  ;  2.  To ("  I  saw  thee  on  thy  bridal  day  ") ;  3.  To 

("  The  bowers  whereat,  in  dreams,  I  see  "  ) ;  4.  To  the  River ; 

5.   The  Lake.       To  ;  6.  Spirits  of  the  Dead ;    7.    A  Dream  ; 

8.  To  M ("I  heed  not  that  my  earthly  lot"),  twenty  lines, 

now  printed,  revised,  as  To ;    9.  Fairyland,  the  lines  entitled 

Heaven  in  The  Yankee.  Of  these  Tamerlane,  of  which  the  former 
edition  is  said  to  have  been  "  suppressed,"  is  wholly  rewritten, 
and  the  second,  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  of  the  miscellaneous 
poems  are  from  the  1827  edition,  but  revised. 


WANDERINGS.  49 

who  choose,  instead  of  that  tranquillity  which  makes 
the  highest  bliss,  the  sharper  delights  of  love,  wine, 
and  pleasing  melancholy,  at  the  price  of  annihila 
tion  in  the  moment  of  their  extremest  joy.  At  this 
point  the  allegory  becomes  cumbrous,  and  the  hand 
ling  of  it  more  awkward,  because  Poe  tries  to  im 
itate  Milton  and  Moore  at  the  same  time.  By 
the  use  of  incongruous  poetic  machinery,  however, 
he  contrives  to  say  that  beauty  is  the  direct  revela 
tion  of  the  divine  to  mankind,  arid  the  protection 
of  the  soul  against  sin.  The  action  of  the  maiden 
in  whom  beauty*  is  personified  begins  with  a  prayer 
descriptive  of  the  Deity,  who  in  answer  directs  her, 
through  the  music  of  the  spheres,  to  leave  the  con 
fines  of  our  earth  and  guide  her  wandering  star  to 
other  worlds,  which  she  should  guard  against  the 
contagion  of  evil, — 

"Lest  the  stars  totter  in  the  guilt  of  man." 

In  obedience  to  this  mandate  she  chants  an  incan 
tation  in  which  she  calls  upon  her  subjects,  and  es 
pecially  her  handmaid  Ligeia,  the  personified  har 
mony  of  nature,  to  attend  her.  At  this  point  the 
allegory  terminates,  and  the  story  begins.  It  now 
appears  that  among  the  inhabitants  of  Al  Aaraaf 
are  two,  Angelo  and  lanthe,  who  cannot  hear  the 
summons  because  of  their  mutual  passion,  and  so 
in  reminiscences  of  the  past  and  dreams  of  the  fu 
ture,  unmindful,  the  lovers 

"  whilecl  away 
The  night  that  waned  and  waned  and  brought  no  day." 


50  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Here,   with   singular   abruptness,   the    poem    con 
cludes. 

Of  course,  as  serious  work  it  was  a  failure.  After 
"  Queen  Mab,"  "  Heaven  and  Earth,"  or  even  "The 
Loves  of  the  Angels,"  it  was  pardonable  only  in 
a  boy.  The  obscure  allegory,  the  absence  of  any 
structural  relation  between  it  and  the  brief  ro 
mance,  the  discordant  influence  of  other  poets  who 
had  broken  Byron's  ascendency  over  Poe's  mind, 
and  finally  the  style  itself,  with  its  long  and  ill- 
timed  parentheses,  its  inconsequential  pursuit  of 
image  into  image  and  thought  into  thought,  until  all 
consistency  in  the  meaning  is  lost,  and  other  analo 
gous  defects  of  youthful  composition,  combine  their 
separate  elements  of  confusion  to  make  the  poem 
seemingly  unintelligible.  In  fact,  it  seems  as  if  Poe 
had  stopped  without  completing  his  original  con 
ception  ;  as  if  he  found  his  constructive  power  too 
weak,  and  broke  off  without  trying  to  unify  or  clar 
ify  his  work.  Nevertheless,  it  shows  a  gain  of  both 
mental  and  literary  power  ;  it  has,  too,  a  lively 
fancy,  a  flowing  metre,  and  occasionally  a  fine  line, 
that  place  it  above  "  Tamerlane  "  as  a  product  oi 
crude  genius.  In  particular,  the  characteristics  oi 
Poe,  the  attempt  to  seize  the  impalpable,  to  fix 
the  evanescent,  to  perceive  the  supersensual,  are 
strongly  marked,  and  although  the  management  is 
in  general  as  much  Moore's  as  that  of  "Tamer 
lane  "  is  Byron's,  and  there  is  nothing  original  in 
its  substance  except  the  symbolization  of  the  per- 


WANDERINGS.  51 

vasive  music  of  nature  in  Ligeia,  it  proved  that 
the  author  had  a  poetic  faculty,  and,  if  he  could 
break  from  his  masters  and  learn  the  clear  use  of 
words,  was  well  starred.  Poe's  experience  in  this 
effort  was  probably  one  premise  of  the  conclusion 
which,  helped  by  Coleridge's  dictum,  he  soon  made, 
and  held  firmly  ever  after,  —  that  a  long  poem  is 
a  contradiction  in  terms,  and  hence  impossible. 

The  remainder  of  this  pamphlet-like  volume  is, 
biographically,  of  little  consequence.  "  Tamerlane," 
wholly  rewritten,  has  gained  in  rhetorical  effec 
tiveness,  though  it  has  lost  in  spontaneity,  and 
in  its  present  form  is  as  clever  and  uninteresting 
an  imitation  of  Byron  as  was  ever  printed.  In 
some  of  the  personal  pieces,  too,  in  which  Poe  takes 
the  traditional  attitude  of  the  Pilgrim  toward  his 
past  bliss  and  present  desolation,  Byron's  influence 
continues  strong.  The  ruling  genius  of  the  hour, 
however,  was  plainly  Moore,  who  in  his  poems  sup 
plied  a  model  to  be  imitated,  and  in  his  prefaces 
and  notes  information  to  be  either  worked  up  into 
verse,  or  transferred  bodily  to  the  foot  of  the  new 
pages.  In  the  annotations  to  "  Al  Aaraaf ,"  it  musT 
be  noticed,  Poe  began  the  evil  practice,  which  he 
continued  through  life,  of  making  a  specious  show 
of  learning  by  mentioning  obscure  names  and  quot 
ing  learned  authorities  at  second  hand.  Among 
the  sources  used  by  him,  besides  Moore's  notes, 
Chateaubriand's  "  Itine'raire  de  Paris  a  Jerusalem  " 
is  of  most  interest,  since  that  author  afforded 


52  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

suggestions  for  later  work.  On  a  line  of  the  last 
page  he  himself  comments  with  a  sort  of  bravado : 
"Plagiarism — see  the  works  of  Thomas  Moore —  J 
passim ; "  but,  curiously  enough,  this  occurs  in  the 
only  one  of  the  new  poems  which  bears  the  mark 
of  his  originality.  It  is  "Fairyland,"  the  sketch  of 
the  mist  lighted  by  the  moon,  —  the  broad,  pallid 
glamour  descending  at  midnight  on  the  vaporing 
earth,  drowsing  all  things  into  deep  slumber  be 
neath  its  elfish  light,  and  at  noon  soaring  like  a 
yellow  albatross  in  far-off  skies.  There  is  a  unique 
character  in  this  imagery  that  makes  it  linger  in 
the  memory  when  the  crudities  of  its  expression 
are  forgotten. 

On  the  issue  of  this  volume  Poe  returned  to " 
Richmond,  where,  on  the  second  evening  after  his 
arrival,  he  met  a  companion  of  his  school-days,  to 
whom  he  told  some  of  his  adventures,  and  gave 
carte  blanche  for  copies  of  his  poems  at  the  book 
sellers,  to  be  distributed  among  his  former  friends. 
While  "  Al  Aaraaf  "  was  puzzling  those  to  whom 
it  came  as  a  kind  of  Christmas  gift,  and  was  strug 
gling  against  the  private  merriment  of  the  young 
wits  of  Baltimore  and  the  public  gibes  of  the  liter 
ary  oracle  of  that  city,  "  The  Minerva  and  Emer 
ald,"  edited  by  John  H.  Hewitt  and  Rufus  Dawes, 
on  the  latter  of  whom  full  vengeance  was  wreaked 
long  afterwards,  Poe  waited  for  his  commission 
probably  with  some  anxiety,  as  he  reached  and 
passed  the  age  of  twenty-one,  the  legal  limit  within 


WANDERINGS.  53 

which  he  could  be  appointed.  Mr.  Allan,  too,  may 
have  felt  some  sympathetic  uneasiness,  inasmuch  as 
he  was  preparing  to  take  a  new  and  youthful  wife, 
who  might  not  find  Edgar's  presence  in  the  house 
desirable.  Poe's  attainment  of  his  majority  was 
not  regarded  as  an  insuperable  obstacle.  It  was  as 
easy  to  grow  two  years  younger  now  as  it  had  been 
to  grow  four  years  older  when  he  enlisted,  and  he 
had  already  made  up  his  mind  to  this  rejuvenation 
some  months  before,  when  he  wrote  to  John  Neal 
that  he  was  "not  yet  twenty."  Relying  on  this  fic 
tion,  he  solicited  the  influence  of  Powhatan  Ellis, 
a  younger  brother  of  Mr.  Allan's  partner,  and  then 
United  States  Senator  from  Mississippi,  who  wrote 
to  Secretary  Eaton,  March  13,  recommending  him 
not  from  any  personal  acquaintance,  but  on  informa 
tion1  from  others.  This  letter  received  immediate 
attention.  Poe  was  forthwith  appointed  a  cadet, 
and  on  March  31  Mr.  Allan  gave  his  formal  con 
sent  as  guardian  to  his  ward's  binding  himself  to 
serve  the  United  States  for  five  years.  The  die 
being  cast,  Mr.  Allan  furnished  Poe  with  what 
ever  was  necessary,  and  he  probably  thought,  as  he 
turned  to  the  enjoyment  of  his  wedded  bliss,  that 

' l  This  may  have  been  furnished  by  Judge  Marshall  and  Gen 
eral  Scott,  whose  wife  was  a  cousin  of  Mr.  Allan's  fiancee,  but  of 
their  interference,  first  alleged  by  Hirst  (Edgar  A.  Poe,  Philadel 
phia  Saturday  Museum,  1843)  and  repeated  by  later  biographers 
(Mr.  Stoddard  adds  the  name  of  John  Randolph),  there  is  no 
record.  Hirst's  sketch,  it  may  be  remarked  here,  though  resting 
primarily  on  Poe's  authority,  is  full  of  en 


54  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

his  duty  by  the  child  he  had,  adopted  was  finally 
done.  Poe,  after  a  second  visit  at  Baltimore,  dur 
ing  which  he  called  on  Mr.  N.  C.  Brooks,1  a  young 
litterateur,  and  got  a  poem  accepted  by  him  for  a 
forthcoming  annual,  went  on  to  West  Point,  where 
he  soon  forgot  all  about  the  promised  contribution. 
He  entered  the  Military  Academy  on  July  1, 
1830,  and  settled  at  No.  28,  South  Barracks.  His 
age  is  recorded  as  being  then  nineteen  years  and 
five  months,  but  to  the  cadets  he  seemed  older, 
and  it  was  jokingly  reported  among  them,  much  to 
Poe's  annoyance,  that  "  he  had  procured  a  cadet's 
appointment  for  his  son,  and  the  boy  having  died 
the  father  had  substituted  himself  in  his  place."  2 
His  room-mate,  who  tells  this  anecdote,  recalls  his 
expression  as  weary,  worn,  and  discontented,  and 
his  conversation  on  literary  topics  as  without  ex 
ception  carping  and  censorious.  The  three  occu 
pants  of  the  room,  it  is  added,  gave  it  a  bad  rep 
utation  ;  and  Poe,  in  particular,  besides  joining  his 
two  fellows  in  the  consumption  of  brandy,  totally 
neglected  his  studies.  The  features  of  this  slcetch, 
notwithstanding  its  being  drawn  by  one  of  the 
actors,  are  too  grim.  On  others  of  his  classmates 
he  left  a  more  agreeable  impression.  One  of  them, 
Allan  B.  Magruder,  Esq.,  writes  cf  him  as  a  fel- 

1  Dr.N.  C.  Brooks  to  the  author,  June  3,  1884.   All  subsequent 
statements  regarding  the  relations  of  Poe  and  Brooks  are  made 
on  the  same  authority. 

2  Harper's  New  Monthly  Magazine,  xxxv.  754  (Nov.  1867). 


WANDERINGS.  55 

low  "  of  kindly  spirit  and  simple  style,"  and  con 
tinues  his  brief  reminiscences  as -follows  :  — 

"  He  was  very  shy  and  reserved  in  his  intercourse 
with  his  fellow-cadets  —  his  associates  being  confined 
almost  exclusively  to  Virginians.  He  was  an  accom 
plished  French  scholar,  and  had  a  wonderful  aptitude 
for  mathematics,  so  that  he  had  no  difficulty  in  prepar 
ing  his  recitations  in  his  class  and  in  obtaining  the 
highest  marks  in  these  departments.  He  was  a  devourer 
of  books,  but  his  great  fault  was  his  neglect  of  and  ap 
parent  contempt  for  military  duties.  His  wayward  and 
capricious  temper  made  him  at  times  utterly  oblivious 
or  indifferent  to  the  ordinary  routine  of  roll-call,  drills, 
and  guard  duties.  These  habits  subjected  him  often  to 
arrest  and  punishment,  and  effectually  prevented  his 
learning  or  discharging  the  duties  of  a  soldier."  x 

This  account  is  supported  by  the  official  records, 
which  show  that  at  the  examination  at  the  end  of  the 
half-year  Poe  stood  third  in  French  and  seventeenth 
in  mathematics,  in  a  class  of  eighty-seven  members ; 
he  was  not  in  arrest,  however,  before  January,  and 
whether  he  incurred  minor  academic  censure  for 
neglect  of  his  military  duties  cannot  be  determined, 
as  the  books  were  destroyed  by  fire  in  1838.  His 
life  at  West  Point,  so  far  from  being  the  long-contin 
ued  college  prank  that  it  has  been  represented,  did 
not  differ  from  his  course  at  the  University,  except 
that  his  predominant  literary  taste,  which  found  ex 
pression  only  in  talk  about  the  poets  and  pasquin- 

1  Allan  B.  Magruder,  Esq.,  to  tho  author  April  23,  1884. 


56  FDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

ades  on  the  academy  officials,  isolated  him  among1 
his  associates,  while  the  custom  of  the  place  and  his 
own  lack  of  means  forbade  the  excessive  gambling 
in  which  he  had  formerly  indulged.  He  was  the 
intellectual,  self-absorbed,  exclusive  young  fellow 
that  he  had  been,  but  older,  and  consequently  more 
discontented  and  unsettled.  As  before,  he  bore 
his  share  in  the  school-boy  follies  of  his  mates, 
and  his  greater  neglect  of  routine  duty  may  be  as 
cribed  in  part  to  its  increased  irksomeness  to  him 
after  his  year  of  freedom  from  such  restraints. 

After  the  first  six  months  had  passed  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  leave  the  service.  Whether  he  was 
merely  tired  of  the  profession  he  had  voluntarily 
chosen,  or  felt  that  the  recent  marriage  of  Mr. 
Allan,  which  took  place  at  New  York,  October  5, 
cut  off  his  expectation  of  an  inheritance,  and  threw 
him  on  his  own  resources,  or  whether  he  was  con 
vinced  that  literature  was  his  unavoidable  career, 
makes  little  difference.  Mr.  Allan,  as  was  to  be 
expected,  refused  to  sanction  his  alleged  resigna 
tion,  and  consequently  he  had  to  employ  indirect 
means  to  accomplish  his  purpose.1  On  January  5, 
1831,  a  court-martial  was  convened  at  West  Point, 
to  try  offenders  against  discipline,  and  after  a  short 
sitting  adjourned  until  January  28.  For  the  two 

1  This  statement,  which  has  no  authority  except  Hirst,  must 
have  been  originally  derived  from  Foe.  It  is  probably  correct, 
although  accompanied  by  the  evident  misrepresentation,  repeated 
in  all  the  biographies,  that  the  reason  why  Poe  determined  to 
leave  was  the  birth  of  an  heir  to  Mr.  Allan. 


WANDERINGS.  57 

weeks  preceding  this  adjourned  meeting  Poe  neg 
lected  practically  all  his  duties  as  a  cadet,  and 
was  consequently  cited  to  appear  before  the  court 
and  answer  to  two  charges  of  two  specifications 
each,  to  the  effect  that  he  had  absented  himself 
from  certain  parades,  roll-calls,  guard  duty,  and 
academical  duties,  and  in  the  course  of  this  remiss- 
ness  had  twice  directly  disobeyed  the  orders  of  the 
officer  of  the  day.  He  pleaded  guilty  to  all,  except 
one  specification,  and  as  it  was  the  one  alleging 
the  most  patent  of  his  offenses  —  his  absence  from 
parade,  roll-call,  and  guard  duty  —  he  thus  shut 
the  gates  of  mercy  on  himself.  The  court  found 
him  guilty,  and  passed  a  sentence  of  dismissal, 
which,  however,  in  order  that  his  pay  might  suffice 
to  meet  his  debts  to  the  academy,  they  recom 
mended  should  not  take  effect  until  March  6 ;  on 
February  8,  1831,  the  Secretary  of  War  approved 
the  proceedings  of  the  court,  and  ordered  the  sen 
tence  to  be  executed  in  accordance  with  the  recom 
mendation.  On  the  morning  of  March  7,  conse 
quently,  Poe  found  himself  as  free  as  he  had  been 
in  Boston,  four  years  before,  when  he  first  entered 
the  service,  and  apparently  as  penniless,  since  only 
twelve  cents  remained  to  his  credit. 

Funds  for  his  journey  to  New  York  may  have 
been  provided  from  the  subscriptions  of  the  cadets 
(seventy-five    cents,   which  the  superintendent  al 
lowed  to  be  deducted  from  their  pay),1  of  which 
1  Allan  B.  Magruder,  Esq.,  to  the  author,  July  1,  1884. 


58  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

a  part  only  was  advanced,  for  a  volume  of  his 
poems  which  he  proposed  to  publish  in  that  city. 
Mr.  Elam  Bliss,  a  reputable  publisher,  who  is  said 
to  have  come  to  West  Point  on  the  business,  un 
dertook  the  job  presumably  on  the  strength  of  the 
subscription.  The  book,  which  was  entitled  sim 
ply  "Poems,"1  purported  to  be  a  second  edition 
of  the  Baltimore  volume,  from  which  it  differed  in 
many  of  its  readings,  and  materially  by  the  omis 
sion  of  six  short  poems  and  the  addition  of  the 
first  forms  of  "  To  Helen,"  "  The  Sleeper,"  "  Le- 
nore,"  "  The  Valley  of  Unrest,"  "  The  City  in  the 
Sea,"  and  "  Israfel."  In  the  expansion  of  the  ear 
lier  poems  and  of  "  Fairyland  "  in  particular,  Poe 
approached  very  near  to  the  inane,  but  in  the  half 
dozen  new  ones,  inferior  as  they  are  to  the  revised 

1  Poems.  By  Edgar  A.  Poe.  Second  edition.  New  York.  Pub 
lished  by  Elam  Bliss,  1831 :  pp.  124.  This  volume  is  dedicated  to 
the  United  States  Corps  of  Cadets,  and  opens  with  a  preparatory 

letter  to  Mr. ,  dated  West  Point,  1831,  and  addressed  "Dear 

B ;"    it   contains:    1.  Introduction,  66    lines,   an  expansion 

of  Preface  in  the  1829  edition  ;  2.  To  Helen  ;  3.  Israfel,  44  lines; 
4.  The  Doomed  City,  58  lines,  the  first  version  of  The  City  in  the 
Sea  ;  5.  Fairyland,  64  lines,  an  expansion  of  the  poem  of  the  same 
name  in  the  1829  edition  ;  6.  Irene,  74  lines,  the  first  version  of 
The  Sleeper ;  7.  A  Pcean,  44  lines,  the  first  version  of  Lenore  ; 
8.  The  Valley  Nis,  46  lines,  the  first  version  of  The  Valley  of 
Unrest ;  9.  Al  Aaraaf,  slightly  revised,  and  introduced  as  in  the 
1829  edition  by  "  To  Science;  "  10.  Tamerlane,  again  considerably 
revised,  particularly  by  the  insertion  of  The  Lake  in  a  new  form, 

and  of  lines  from  To ("  Should  my  early  life  seem  "),  from 

the  1829  edition.  Each  poem  has  a  bastard  title,  and  the  volume 
is  further  pieced  out  by  mottoes,  to  each  of  which  a  page  is 
given. 


WANDERINGS.  59 

versions  now  known,  his  genius  first  became  man 
ifest  both  in  the  character  of  his  poetic  motives  and 
in  the  fascination  of  some  perfect  lines.  The  first 
three  are  based  on  his  own  experience,  and  are  es 
sentially  personal,  —  an  imaginative  amplification 
of  the  lines  of  the  "  Introduction  :  "  — 

"  I  could  not  love  except  where  Death 
Was  mingling  his  with  Beauty's  breath,  — 
Or  Hymen,  Time,  and  Destiny 
Were  stalking  between  her  and  me." 

Of  these,  however,  "To  Helen,"  which  has  been 
overpraised,  owes  much  of  its  finish  to  the  slight 
changes  since  made  in  it.  "  Irene,"  although  im 
pressive  in  conception  and  original  in  handling,  is 
far  too  rude  to  be  regarded  as  more  than  a  poem 
of  some  promise,  and  the  "  Paean  "  is  happily  for 
gotten.  The  remaining  three,  which  are  developed 
from  slight  Oriental  suggestions,  are  of  a  different 
kind.  In  these  for  the  first  time  the  strangeness 
and  distance  and  mystical  power  of  Poe's  imagina 
tions  are  so  given  as  to  be  henceforth  identified 
with  his  genius.  Two  are  landscape  effects.  In 
one,  far  down  in  the  east,  the  Valley  of  Unrest  dis 
closes  its  tremulous  trees  beneath  the  ceaseless  flow 
of  swift-motioned  clouds,  —  a  glow  of  deep  color  ; 
and  in  the  other,  as  far  in  the  west,  gleams  the 
weird  diablerie  of  that  strange  city  lying  all  alone 
in  its  glare  and  gloom,  shadowed  in  those  black 
waves :  — 

"  Around  by  lifting  winds  forgot 
Eesignedly  beneath  the  sky 
The  melancholy  waters  lie." 


60  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

The  melodious  monotone,  the  justness  of  touch  in 
lines  like  these,  are  as  artistic  as  the  idea  is  poetic. 
But  fine  as  is  the  substance  of  these  two  poems  and 
excellent  as  is  the  execution  at  its  best,  neither 
rises  to  the  rank  of  "  Israfel,"  in  which  rings  out 
the  lyric  burst,  the  first  pure  song  of  the  poet,  the 
notes  most  clear  and  liquid  and  soaring  of  all  he 
ever  sang,  that  waken  and  tremble  in  the  first  in 
spiration  not  less  magnetically  because  narrower  in 
compass  and  lower  in  flight  than  in  the  cadences  of 
theyperfected  song. 

/As  his  genius  had  developed,  Poe  had  formed  a 
theory  of  poetry,  which  he  expressed,  so  far  as  he 
had  made  it  out  to  himself,  in  the  prefatory  "Letter 

to  Mr. ."  In  this,  after  some  thin  logic  to  the 

effect  that  pleasure  instead  of  utility  is  thd  end 
of  all  rational  human  activity,  and  consequently 
of  poetry,  he  subjects  Wordsworth's  theories  and 
practice  to  a  very  supercilious  criticism,  and  as 
serts  that  poetry  should  be  pursued  as  "a  passion," 
not  as  "  a  study,"  since  "  learning  has  little  to  do 
with  the  imagination  —  intellect  with  the  passions 

-  or  age  with  poetry ;  "  at  the  end  he  sums  up  his 
creed  in  an  article  which  shows  the  strong  influence 
of  Coleridge's  criticism,  as  follows  :  — 

"  A  poem  in  my  opinion,  is  opposed  to  a  work  of 
science  by  having,  for  its  immediate  object,  pleasure,  not 
truth ;  i  to  romance,  by  having  for  its  object  an  in\ 
definite  instead  of  a  definite  pleasure,  being  a  poem 
only  so  far  as  this  object  is  attained ;  romance  present- 


WANDERINGS.  61 

ing  perceptible  images  with  definite,  poetry  with  iiy- 
definite,  sensations,  to  which  end  music  is  an  essential, 
since  the  comprehension  of  sweet  sound  is  our  most 
indefinite  conception.  Music,  when  combined  with  a 
pleasurable  idea,  is  poetry  ;  music  without  the  idea  is 
simply  music ;  the  idea  without  the  music  is  prose  from 
its  very  definiteness." 

These  crude  generalizations,  together  with  the 
incidental  remarks  that  no  one  enjoys  long  poems, 
and  that  delicacy  is  the  poet's  peculiar  kingdom, 
are  the  fundamental  ideas  out  of  which  he  after 
ward  slowly  developed  and  finally  perfected  his 
poetic  theory;  to  the  canons  thus  laid  down  he 
submitted  his  own  practice  the  more  easilu  because 
they  were  consonant  with  his  own  genius.  J 

For  the  present  neither  his  statement  of  the 
poetic  ideal  nor  his  attempted  illustration  of  it  in 
terested  the  world.  The  only  notice  his  poetry  re 
ceived  was  from  the  laughter  of  the  cadets,  who 
were  disappointed  because  the  little  green  volume 
of  dingy  paper  had  not  turned  out  to  be  a  book  of 
local  squibs.  He  himself  went  South,  but  whether 
he  returned  to  Mr.  Allan's  house  must  be  regarded 
as  doubtful.  He  had  not  been  a  regular  inmate  of 
that  home  since  he  left  it  for  the  University,  a  boy 
of  seventeen,  over  five  years  before  ;  and  in  the 
mean  time  a  Miss  Paterson,  aged  thirty,  had  come 
to  take  the  place  of  his  foster-mother,  and  his  own 
successor  in  the  shape  of  a  lineal  heir  was  at  hand. 
Poe  remained  but  a  short  time,  if  at  all,  at  Rich- 


62  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

mond.  His  own  characteristic  description  of  the 
rupture  with  the  family  was  that,  led  by  a  chival- 
ric  feeling,  he  "deliberately  threw  away  a  large 
fortune  rather  than  endure  a  trivial  wrong ;  "  l  but 
this  statement  is  worth  nothing  as  evidence.  Mr. 
Allan  plainly  regarded  him  as  ungrateful,  reckless, 
and  untrustworthy ;  and  Poe's  conduct  toward  him, 
to  say  the  least,  had  been  that  of  a  son  who,  since 
he  wished  his  own  will,  ought  to  make  his  own 
way. 
1  Foe  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  October  18,  1848.  Ingram,  ii.  171. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AT   THE    SOUTH. 

POE  determined  to  settle  at  Baltimore,  probably 
because  he  had  a  grateful  remembrance  of  the 
kindness  of  his  relatives  there  during  his  visits  two 
years  before,  and  because  he  had  no  prospects  else 
where  nor  money  to  seek  them.  He  at  once  asked 
employment  of  his  former  acquaintance,  William 
Gwynn,  the  editor,  who  apparently  had  some  cause 
to  distrust  him,  and  it  is  noticeable  that  the  form 
of  his  application  shows  that  he  still  kept  ostensibly 
on  some  terms  with  Mr.  Allan  :  — 

MayMh,  1831. 
MR.  W.  GWYNN. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  ask  any  favour 
at  your  hands  after  my  foolish  conduct  upon  a  former 
occasion  —  but  I  trust  to  your  good  nature. 

I  am  very  anxious  to  remain  and  settle  myself  in 
Baltimore  as  Mr.  Allan  has  married  again  and  I  no 
longer  look  upon  Richmond  as  my  place  of  residence. 

This  wish  of  mine  has  also  met  with  his  approbation. 
I  wish  to  request  your  influence  in  obtaining  some  sit 
uation  or  employment  in  this  city.  Salary  would  be  a 
minor  consideration,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  idle. 

Perhaps  (since  I  understand  Neilson  has  left  you) 


64  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

you  might  be  so  kind  as  to  employ  me  in  your  office  in 
some  capacity. 

If  so  I  will  use  every  exertion  to  deserve  your  con 
fidence.  Very  respectfully  yr.  ob.  st., 

EDGAR  A.  POE. 

I  would  have  waited  upon  you  personally  but  am 
confined  to  my  room  with  a  severe  sprain  in  my  knee.1 

Mr.  Gwynn  seems  not  to  have  exercised  the 
Christian  grace  of  forgiveness.  Within  a  few 
weeks  Poe  turned  to  another  Baltimore  acquaint 
ance,  Mr.  N.  C.  Brooks,  who  had  recently  opened 
a  school  at  Keisterstown,  not  far  from  the  city, 
and  offered  himself  as  an  assistant ;  but  of  this, 
too,  nothing  came.  To  a  man  of  Poe's  talents  and 
poverty  there  was  left  only  a  literary  career. 

Baltimore  was  not  the  most  promising  field  for  a 
young  and  friendless  poet  to  seek  his  fortune  in. 
Less  than  four  years  before,  Pinkney,  who  had 
resided  there  since  childhood,  had  died  at  the  age 
of  twenty-five  from  the  effects  of  poverty  and  dis 
couragement  suffered  just  as  his  genius  was  break, 
ing  forth.  At  the  present  time  there  were  two 
literary  sets  in  the  city,  of  which  Kennedy  and  his 
friends  of  the  club  constituted  one,  and  a  half 
dozen  obscure  young  men — Arthur,  Carpenter,  Mac- 
Jilton,  Brooks,  Hewitt,  and  Dawes,  whose  names 
were  current  in  the  literature  of  the  day  and  will 
occur  in  this  narrative  —  made  up  the  other ;  but 
to  the  former  Poe  was  a  stranger,  and  to  the  latter 
1  Poe  to  Gwynn,  MS. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  65 

he  was  only  slightly  known.  In  the  course  of  the 
first  eighteen  months  of  his  life  at  Baltimore,  where 
he  was  always  understood  to  have  resided  at  this 
time,  he  bought  his  experience  of  anonymous  and 
unappreciated  authorship  dearly.  He  now  turned 
to  prose  to  gain  his  living.  Bulwer  and  Disraeli, 
the  popular  writers  of  the  time,  gave  direction  to 
his  genius,  both  in  subject  and  style.  Under  their 
influence  he  wrote  at  least  six  tales,  but  he  had 
found  no  publisher  for  them  when,  in  1833,  in 
the  summer,  the  Baltimore  "  Saturday  Visiter,"  a 
weekly  literary  paper  recently  started  by  Mr.  Lam 
bert  A.  Wilmer,  a  young  journalist,  sought  public 
attention  in  a  way  not  unusual  among  contempo 
rary  periodicals  of  its  class  by  offering  two  prizes : 
one  of  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  best  tale  in 
prose,  the  other  of  fifty  dollars  for  the  best  short 
poem,  which  should  be  presented  within  a  fixed  time. 
On  learning  this  Poe  determined  to  send  in  the  tales 
which  he  was  so  fortunately  supplied  with,  and  the 
better  to  secure  his  success  to  send  in  all  of  them. 
The  judges  of  this  literary  contest  were  Dr. 
James  H.  Miller,  J.  H.  B.  Latrobe,  Esq.,  and 
John  P.  Kennedy,  Esq.,  who  had  published  a  year 
before  his  pleasant  sketches  entitled  "  Swallow 
Barn."  When  these  gentlemen  met,  according  to 
the  narrative  l  of  Mr.  Latrobe,  —  which,  although 
clearly  very  inaccurate  in  detail,  seems  substantially 
true,  —  nearly  all  the  manuscripts  were  examined 

1  Works,  cxlvii-clii. 


66  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

more  and  more  cursorily  before  a  certain  small 
quarto-bound  book  was  noticed;  Mr.  Latrobe  on 
taking  it  up  found  it  entitled  "  Tales  of  the  Folio 
Club,"  and  written  very  neatly  in  Roman  charac 
ters,  and  on  reading  it  to  his  associates  the  stories 
proved  so  agreeable  a  diversion  over  the  wine  and 
cigars  that  the  first  prize  was  immediately  awarded 
to  its  author.  Among  the  poems,  too,  one  entitled 
"  The  Coliseum  "  was  regarded  the  best,  but  being 
in  the  same  hand  as  the  successful  tales  was  ruled 
out,  and  the  second  prize  awarded  to  Hewitt,  the 
reviewer  of  Poe's  "  Al  Aaraaf  "  four  years  before. 
On  October  12  these  decisions  were  announced  in 
the  "  Saturday  Visiter ; "  one  of  the  tales,  "  A  MS. 
Found  in  a  Bottle,"  was  published  as  the  prize 
story,  and  the  name  of  its  author  given  as  Edgar 
Allan  Poe. 

To  that  young  man,  whose  fortunes  were  then  at 
their  lowest  ebb,  the  hard  cash,  as  well  as  the  en 
couragement  and  the  flattering  card  of  the  judges, 
advising  the  author  to  print  all  his  tales  in  a  book, 
must  have  been  very  welcome.  The  low  state  to 
which  he  had  become  reduced  is  briefly  and  point 
edly  shown  in  a  passage  in  Kennedy's  diary  :  — 

"  It  is  many  years  ago,  I  think,  perhaps  as  early  as 
1833  or  '34,  that  I  found  him  in  Baltimore  in  a  state  of 
starvation.  I  gave  him  clothing,  free  access  to  my  table 
and  the  use  of  a  horse  for  exercise  whenever  he  chose ; 
in  fact  brought  him  up  from  the  very  verge  of  despair."  * 

1  Life  of  John  Pendleton  Kennedy.  By  Henry  T.  Tuckerman. 
New  York:  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  1871  :  p.  376. 


AT  THE  SOUTH. 


67 


It  is  further  illustrated  by  the  following  self- 
explanatory  note  from  Poe  to  that  kind-hearted 
gentleman,  who  all  his  life  was  seeking  out  and 
advancing  merit :  — 

"  Your  invitation  to  dinner  has  wounded  me  to  the 
quick.  I  cannot  come  for  reasons  of  the  most  humiliat 
ing  nature  —  my  personal  appearance.  You  may  im 
agine  my  mortification  in  making  this  disclosure  to  you, 
but  it  is  necessary."  ] 

And  if  further  proof  be  needed  (for  the  facts 
have  been  denied),  it  is  furnished  by  a  letter  of 
Poe's  years  afterwards,  in  which  he  says,  "  Mr. 
Kennedy  has  been,  at  all  times,  a  true  friend  to  me 
—  he  was  the  first  true  friend  I  ever  had  —  I  am  in 
debted  to  him  for  life  itself."  2  Poe  also  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Dr.  Miller,  with  whom  he  after 
wards  had  some  correspondence,  and  of  Mr.  La- 
trobe,  who  describes  3  him  as  below  the  middle  stat 
ure,  erect  in  carriage,  self-possessed  in  manner,  and 
grave  in  countenance  until  he  became  animated  in 
conversation,  when  his  face  lighted  up  and  his  man 
ner  became  demonstrative. 

1  Life  of  John  Pendleton  Kennedy,  p.  375. 

2  Poe  to  F.  W.  Thomas.     Stoddard,  xcv. 

3  Mr.  Latrobe  states  that  this  visit  was  made  on  the  Monday 
following  the  award,  but  he  is  clearly  in  error  or  hns  confused 
two  visits,  since  he  makes  Poe  mention  the  Southern  Literary  Mes 
senger,  which  did  not  appear  until  nine  months  later,  and  Plans 
Pfaall,  which  by  Poe's  own  statement  was  suggested  to  him  by 
reading  a  book  published  a  year  afterward. 


68  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

For  the  following  six  months  Poe  employed  his 
time  in  contributing  to  the  "  Saturday  Visiter," 
of  which  no  file  is  now  known,  and  upon  such 
hack  work  as  Mr.  Kennedy  could  procure  for  him, 
none  of  which  has  been  traced;  but  he  attracted 
no  further  public  notice.  He  lived  from  the  sum 
mer  of  1833,  at  least,  if  not  earlier,  in  a  very  re 
tired  way  with  his  father's  widowed  sister,  Mrs. 
Clemm,  who,  with  her  single  surviving  child,  Vir 
ginia,  seems  to  have  settled  in  Baltimore  in  the 
spring,  after  a  long  absence  from  the  city;  and 
whatever  he  earned  went  into  the  small  common 
stock  of  the  family.  Mr.  Wilmer,  the  editor  of 
the  "  Saturday  Visiter,"  was  a  constant  companion. 
Nearly  every  day  they  walked  out  together  in  the 
suburbs,  and  sometimes  took  Virginia,  a  child  of 
eleven,  with  them.  Poe  was  then  neatly,  though 
inexpensively,  clad  (Hewitt,  his  successful  rival, 
says  he  wore  "  Byron  collars  and  a  black  stock, 
and  looked  the  poet  all  over  "),  and  in  his  features 
there  was  a  delicacy  which  was  perhaps  the  pallor 
of  his  Southern  complexion ;  his  companion,  who 
was  of  a  coarse  fibre,  mistook  his  refinement  for 
effeminacy,  but  perceived  that  he  was  possessed  of 
quick  sympathies  and  an  affectionate  disposition. 
During  an  unbroken  intimacy  of  some  months, 
Wilmer  saw  no  sign  of  bad  habits  in  his  friend, 
except  on  one  occasion  when  Poe  set  out  some  Ja 
maica  rum  at  his  lodgings  and  drank  moderately 
with  his  guest ;  and  on  another  when  Mrs.  Clemm 


AT   THE  SOUTH.  69 

scolded  the  young  man  for  coming  home  intoxi 
cated  the  night  before  from  a  tavern  supper,  but 
as  if  it  were  a  rare  occurrence.  These  recollec 
tions,1  however,  cover  only  a  comparatively  short 
period.  Wilmer  was  soon  crowded  out  of  his  edi 
torship  by  Hewitt,  and  left  Baltimore  on  foot  and 
in  want,  to  follow  journalism  in  other  quarters.  A 
cousin,  Miss  Herring,  on  whom  Poe  used  to  call, 
says  he  would  write  poems  in  her  album  and  read 
to  her ;  but  his  attentions  were  discouraged  by  her 
father  on  account  both  of  the  relationship  and  of 
Poe's  use  of  liquor.  These  visits  began  as  early 
as  1831,  and  continued  until  her  marriage  in  1834. 
It  would  appear,  too,  from  her  account  that  he  went 
at  times  to  Philadelphia  and  other  places.2 

On  March  27,  1834,  Mr.  Allan  died  of  the 
dropsy.  Shortly  before  this  event  Poe  called  at 
his  house,  and  being  told  by  Mrs.  Allan,  who  did 
not  recognize  him,  that  the  physicians  had  forbid 
den  her  husband  to  see  any  one  he  thrust  her  aside 
and  walked  rapidly  to  Mr.  Allan's  chamber  ;  on  his 
entrance  Mr.  Allan  raised  the  cane  which  he  used 
to  walk  with,  and,  threatening  to  strike  him  if  he 
came  within  his  reach,  ordered  him  out,  a  command 
that  Poe  at  once  obeyed.3  This  was  the  so-called 

1  Recollections  of  Edgar  A.  Poe.     By  L.  A.  Wilmer,  Baltimore 
Daily  Commercial,  May  23,  1866. 

2  Miss  A.  F.  Poe  to  the  author,  September  13,  1884. 

8  Edgar  Allan  Poe.  A  letter  by  Colonel  Thomas  H.  Ellis  to 
the  Richmond  Standard,  April  22,  1881.  Mr.  Ellis  had  the  very 
best  means  of  judging  the  truth  in  this  matters 


70  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

violent  scene  in  which  the  two  parted.  Mr.  Allan 
left  three  children ;  his  will  cut  off  any  lingering- 
hopes  of  inheritance  Poe  may  have  indulged  in, 
and  threw  him  irretrievably  on  his  own  resources. 
About  this  time  he  gathered  his  tales  together  and 
sent  them  to  a  Philadelphia  house.  He  probably 
employed  the  summer  upon  the  tragedy  "Politian," 
and  the  autumn  upon  "  Hans  Pfaall."  He  also  pro 
jected  a  new  literary  magazine,  to  be  edited  at  Bal 
timore  by  himself  and  Wilmer,  to  whom  he  sent  a 
prospectus  ; *  and  after  the  new  year  opened,  upon 
Kennedy's  recommendation,  he  sent  some  tales  to 
the  "  Southern  Literary  Messenger,"  still  in  the 
first  struggles  of  its  existence.  Mr.  T.  W.  White, 
the  editor,  was  attracted  by  his  new  contributor's 
talents,  and  in  March  published  one  of  the  stories, 
"Berenice,"  with  a  very  flattering  notice;  at  the 
same  time  he  addressed  a  letter  of  inquiry  to  Mr. 
Kennedy,  which  elicited  the  following  response :  — 

"  BALTIMORE,  April  13,  1835. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  Poe  did  right  in  referring  to  me.  He 
is  very  clever  with  his  pen  —  classical  and  scholar-like. 
He  wants  experience  and  direction,  but  I  have  no  doubt 
he  can  be  made  very  useful  to  you.  And,  poor  fellow  ! 
he  is  very  poor.  I  told  him  to  write  something  for 
every  number  of  your  magazine,  and  that  you  might 
find  it  to  your  advantage  to  give  him  some  permanent 

1  Our  Pnss  Gang ;  or,  A  Complete  Exposition  of  the  Corruptions 
and  Crimes  of  the  American  Newspapers.  By  Lambert  A.  Wil 
mer  (ex-editor).  Philadelphia  :  J.  T.  Lloyd,  1859  :  p.  36. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  71 

employ.     He  has  a  volume  of  very  bizarre  tales  in  the 

hands  of ,  in  Philadelphia,  who  for  a  year  past  has 

been  promising  to  publish  them.  This  young  fellow  is 
highly  imaginative,  and  a  little  given  to  the  terrific. 
He  is  at  work  upon  a  tragedy,  but  I  have  turned  him 
to  drudging  upon  whatever  may  make  money,  and  I 
have  no  doubt  you  and  he  will  find  your  account  in  each 
other."  * 

"  Berenice  "  was  followed  in  successive  numbers 
by  other  tales  and  some  criticism.  On  the  30th  of 
May  he  wrote  to  Mr.  White,  thanking  him  for  his 
kindness  :  — 

"  In  regard  to  my  critique  of  Mr.  Kennedy's  novel  I 
seriously  feel  ashamed  of  what  I  have  written.  I  fully 
intended  to  give  the  work  a  thorough  review,  and  exam 
ine  it  in  detail.  Ill  health  alone  prevented  me  from 
doing  so.  At  the  time  I  made  the  hasty  sketch  I  sent 
you,  I  was  so  ill  as  to  be  hardly  able  to  see  the  paper  on 
which  I  wrote,  and  I  finished  it  in  a  state  of  complete 
exhaustion.  I  have  not,  therefore,  done  anything  like 
justice  to  the  book,  and  I  am  vexed  about  the  matter, 
for  Mr.  Kennedy  has  proved  himself  a  kind  friend  to  me 
in  every  respect,  and  I  am  sincerely  grateful  to  him  for 
many  acts  of  generosity  and  attention.  You  ask  me  if 
I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  your  course.  I  reply  that 
I  am  —  entirely.  My  poor  services  are  not  worth  what 
you  give  me  for  them."  1 

A  month  later,  in  reply  to  some  advances  made 
by  Mr.  White,  he  again  wrote :  — 

1  Griswold,  xxix. 


72  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  You  ask  me  if  I  would  be  willing  to  come  on  to  Rich 
mond  if  you  should  have  occasion  for  my  services  during 
the  coming  winter.  I  reply  that  nothing  would  give  me 
greater  pleasure.  I  have  been  desirous  for  some  time 
past  of  paying  a  visit  to  Richmond,  and  would  be  glad 
of  any  reasonable  excuse  for  so  doing.  Indeed  I  am 
anxious  to  settle  myself  in  that  city,  and  if,  by  any  chance, 
you  hear  of  a  situation  likely  to  suit  me,  I  would  gladly 
accept  it,  were  the  salary  even  the  merest  trifle.  I  should, 
indeed,  feel  myself  greatly  indebted  to  you  if  through 
your  means  I  could  accomplish  this  object.  What  you 
say  in  the  conclusion  of  your  letter,  in  relation  to  the 
supervision  of  proof-sheets,  gives  me  reason  to  hope  that 
possibly  you  might  find  something  for  me  to  do  in  your 
office.  If  so,  I  should  be  very  glad  —  for  at  present 
only  a  very  small  portion  of  my  time  is  employed."  1 

In  the  first  of  these  letters  is  the  earliest  mention 
of  ill-health  in  Poe ;  but  from  this  time  he  fre 
quently  complains  of  nervous  exhaustion,  which  can 
be  ascribed  only  to  the  reaction  of  drugs  and  stim 
ulants  on  a  weakened  system.  Neither  at  college, 
nor  in  the  army,  nor  at  West  Point,  is  there  any 
proof  that  he  showed  any  dangerous  or  even  inju 
rious  taste  for  liquor ;  the  evidence  goes  rather  to 
indicate  that  he  was  free  from  the  vice  of  intox 
ication.  Now,  however,  when  he  emerges  from  his 
obscurity,  he  seems  to  have  already  fixed  upon  him 
self  the  habits  of  indulgence,  which,  although  less 
strong  in  their  hold  and  less  violent  in  their  ef- 

1  Griswold,  xxix. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  73 

fects  than  they  afterwards  became,  were  gradually 
accustoming  him  to  surrender  at  longer  or  shorter 
intervals  to  a  temptation  which,  once  yielded  to, 
rendered  him  irrational  and  irresponsible  for  days,] 
and  left  him  prostrated.  At  some  time  between  his1; 
abandonment  by  Mr.  Allan  and  his  literary  adop 
tion  by  Mr.  Kennedy,  the  weakest  spot  in  his  nature 
had  been  found,  During  this  period  Poe  was  very 
poor  ;  he  was  solitary,  proud,  and  despairing.  That 
a  nervous  system  extraordinarily  sensitive  should 
have  been  permanently  weakened  by  such  bodily 
privation  and  mental  strain  is  not  unlikely ;  that  a 
youth  of  twenty  three  or  four  years,  possibly  with 
an  hereditary  taint  in  his  blood,  should  indulge  in 
such  a  vice  admits  no  wonder ;  and  that  under  the 
circumstances  his  frame  retained  an  unusual  sus 
ceptibility  to  such  influences,  even  after  better  days 
had  come,  offers  nothing  strange  to  ordinary  expe 
rience.  His  excesses,  however,  seem  to  have  been 
infrequent,  and^  he  was  now  trying  to  overcome  his 
temptation.  In  Mr.  Kennedy,  to  whom  he  appar 
ently  confided  all  his  troubles,  he  had  a  kind  and  . 
invigorating  friend,  and  in  Mrs.  Clemm  he  had 
found  more  motherhood  and  in  her  daughter  more 
tender  affection  than  he  hud  ever  known.  He  had 
no  choice  but  to  go  to  Richmond,  but  he  seems  to 
have  felt  that  separation  from  these  friends  would 
cast  him  back  into  that  state  of  loneliness  and  de 
spondency  out  of  which  they  had  helped  him  to  rise. 
Virginia  was  greatly  attached  to  him,  and  Mrs. 


74  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Clemm  had  no  one  else  to  look  to  for  support. 
Under  the  circumstances  it  was  not  so  unnatural  as 
it  was  unwise  that,  before  leaving  for  Richmond, 
Poe  proposed  to  keep  the  family  united  by  marry 
ing  his  cousin,  and  the  engagement  was  approved 
by  her  mother. 

In  midsummer,  with  this  understanding,  Poe  left 
Baltimore  apparently  without  regret,  for  he  owed 
little  gratitude  to  that  city,  nor  did  he  ever  return 
to  it  to  live,  although  there  he  was  destined  to  die 
and  be  buried.  He  went  directly  to  Eichmond,  to 
the  home  and  associates  of  his  childhood ;  nor  did 
he  doubt  that,  in  spite  of  the  changes  in  his  lot,  life 
there  would  be  pleasant  to  him ;  he  may  have 
thought  that  his  literary  position  would  compensate 
for  his  loss  of  social  pretension  and  the  considera 
tion  that  attaches  to  wealth,  or  even  that  his  old 
acquaintance  would  be  advantageous  to  him.  How 
ever  this  turned  out,  he  entered  at  once  on  his  duties 
as  an  assistant,  although  he  was  not  nominally  an 
editor  until  November,  at  a  salary  of  ten  dollars  a 
week.  It  was  not  high  pay,  but  the  position  he  held 
was  a  good  opening  and  well  adapted  to  his  talents. 
He  had  on  hand  nine  tales  besides  those  which  had 
already  been  published  ("  A  MS.  Found  in  a  Bot 
tle,"  "  Berenice,"  "  Morella,"  "  Lionizing,"  "  Hans 
Pfaall,"  "The  Visionary,"  and  "  Bon-Bon  "),  and 
he  expected  to  print  the  whole  sixteen  in  the  fall 
at  Philadelphia.  He  had  been  highly  praised  by 
Paulding,  Tucker,  Kennedy,  and  others  who  were 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  75 

the  literary  autocrats  of  their  day.  The  Southern 
press  welcomed  him  loudly.  His  fortunes,  however 
regarded,  were  in  bright  contrast  to  his  immediate 
past ;  but  not  long  after  his  arrival  all  this  was 
made  as  naught,  because  an  obstruction  arose  in 
the  course  of  true  love. 

The  engagement  between  Edgar  and  his  cousin 
Virginia  had  come  to  the  ears  of  his  relative,  Neil- 
son  Poe,  who,  himself  a  third  cousin  to  both,  had 
recently  married  her  half-sister,  also  his  third 
cousin ;  and,  led  by  his  wife,  who  thought  Virginia 
too  young  to  marry  (as  indeed  she  was,  having  been 
born  August  15,  1822, 1  and  consequently  hardly 
turned  of  thirteen  years),  he  offered  to  take  her  into 
his  family  and  care  for  her  until  she  should  be 
eighteen,  when,  if  she  desired  to  rnarry  Edgar,  she 
would  be  free  to  do  so.  The  communication  of  this 
news  to  Poe  had  an  extraordinary  effect  upon  him, 
and  seems  to  have  cast  him  into  the  deepest  dejec 
tion.  He  wrote  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  August  29,  im 
ploring  her  not  to  consent  to  separate  him  from 
Virginia,  and  appealing  to  her  pity  for  himself  in 
such  terms  that  his  sincerity  cannot  be  questioned. 
Some  days  later,  evidently  under  the  same  influ 
ence,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Kennedy  as  follows :  — 

KICHMOND,  Sept.  11,  1835. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  I  received  a  letter  yesterday  from  Dr. 
Miller,  in  which  he  tells  me  you  are  in  town.  I  hasten, 

i  The  Records  of  St.  Paul's  Parish,  Baltimore.  The  date 
August  13  has  some  authority  by  family  tradition. 


76  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

therefore,  to  write  you,  and  express  by  letter  what  I  have 
always  found  it  impossible  to  express  orally  —  my  deep 
sense  of  gratitude  for  your  frequent  and  ineffectual  as 
sistance  and  kindness.  Through  your  influence  Mr. 
White  has  been  induced  to  employ  me  in  assisting  him 
with  the  editorial  duties  of  his  Magazine  at  a  salary  of 
five  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  per  annum.  The  situa 
tion  is  agreeable  to  me  for  many  reasons,  —  but  alas !  it 
appears  to  me  that  nothing  can  now  give  me  pleasure  or 
the  slightest  gratification.  Excuse  me,  my  dear  sir,  if  in 
this  letter  you  find  much  incoherency.  My  feelings  at 
this  moment  are  pitiable,  indeed.  I  am  suffering  under 
d.  depression  of  spirits,  such  as  I  have  never  felt  before. 
I  have  struggled  in  vain  against  the  influence  of  this  mel- 
afcchply ;  you  will  believe  me,  when  I  say  that  I  am  still 
miserable  in  spite  of  the  great  improvement  in  my  cir 
cumstances.  I  say  you  will  believe  me,  and  for  this  sim 
ple  reason,  that  a  man  who  is  writing  for  effect  does  not 
write  thus.  My  heart  is  open  before  you  —  if  it  be 
worth  reading,  read  it.  I  am  wretched,  and  know  not 
why.  Console  me,  —  for  you  can.  But  let  it  be  quickly, 
or  it  will  be  too  late.  Write  me  immediately.  Convince 
me  that  it  is  worth  one's  while  —  that  it  is  at  all  neces 
sary  to  live,  and  you  will  prove  yourself  indeed  my 
friend.  Persuade  me  to  do  what  is  right.  I  do  mean 
this.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  should  consider  what  I 
now  write  you  a  jest.  Oh,  pity  me  !  for  I  feel  that  my 
words  are  incoherent ;  but  I  will  recover  myself.  You 
will  not  fail  to  see  that  I  am  suffering  under  a  depres 
sion  of  spirits  which  will  ruin  me  should  it  be  long  con 
tinued.  Write,  me  then,  and  quickly  —  urge  me  to  do 
what  is  right.  Your  words  will  have  more  weight  with 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  77 

me  than  the  words  of  others,  for  you  were  my  friend 
when  no  one  else  was.  Fail  not,  as  you  value  your  peace 
of  mind  hereafter.  E.  A.  PoE.1 

To  this  painful  letter,  exhibiting  an  unmanned 
spirit,  Mr.  Kennedy  replied  :  ~ 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  such  plight  as  your  letter 
shows  you  in.  It  is  strange  that  just  at  this  time,  when 
everybody  is  praising  you,  and  when  fortune  is  begin 
ning  to  smile  upon  your  hitherto  wretched  circumstances, 
you  should  be  invaded  by  these  blue  devils.  It  belongs, 
however,  to  your  age  and  temper  to  be  thus  buffeted  — 
but  be  assured,  it  only  wants  a  little  resolution  to  master 
the  adversary  forever.  You  will  doubtless  do  well  hence 
forth  in  literature,  and  add  to  your  comforts,  as  well  as 
to  your  reputation,  which  it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to 
assure  you  is  everywhere  rising  in  popular  esteem."  2 

Probably  before  receiving  this  letter  Poe  left 
Richmond  and  arrived  at  Baltimore  to  plead  his 
suit  in  person,  since  on  September  22  he  took 
out  a  license  in  that  city  for  the  marriage.3  It  has 
been  said,  on  the  authority  of  Mrs.  Clemm's  con 
versation  taken  down  in  short-hand,  that  the  cere 
mony  was  performed  by  the  Rev.  John  Johns,  at 
Old  Christ  Church,  and  that  the  next  day  Poe  re 
turned  to  his  duties.4  If  this  was  actually  the  case 

1  The  Life  of  John  Pendleton  Kennedy,  pp.  375,  376. 

2  Griswold,  xxix,  xxx. 

3  Marriage  Records  of  Baltimore  City. 

4  Didier,  p.  58.    The  date  of  marriage  is  given  as  September  2. 
As  Mr.  Didier  knew  nothing  of  the  record  of  the  marriage  license 
granted  September  22,  the  error  is  of  a  kind  to  support  rather 


78  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

the  matter  was  kept  very  private.  There  is  now 
no  complete  legal  proof  of  the  marriage ;  but  this 
is  not  conclusive  against  its  having  taken  place,  as 
the  marriage  records  of  Old  Christ  Church  were 
badly  kept  and  are  very  defective.  It  is  certain, 
however,  that  Poe  so  far  succeeded  in  his  entreaties 
that  the  proposal  of  Neilson  Poe  was  rejected,  and 
Mrs.  Clemm  and  her  daughter  removed  to  Rich- 
mond  within  a  few  weeks,  where  the  three  contin 
ued  to  live  together.  There  they  planned  to  start 
a  boarding-house,  and  with  this  in  view  Poe  sent 
the  following  letter  to  George  Poe  in  Alabama :  — 

RICHMOND,  Jan.  12,  1836. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  I  take  the  liberty  of  addressing  you  in 
behalf  of  a  mutual  relation,  Mrs.  William  Clemm,  late 
of  Baltimore  —  and  at  her  earnest  solicitation. 

You  are  aware  that  for  many  years  she  has  been  suf 
fering  privations  and  difficulties  of  no  ordinary  kind. 
I  know  that  you  have  assisted  her  at  a  former  period, 
and  she  has  occasionally  received  aid  from  her  cousins, 
William  and  Robert  Poe,  of  Augusta.  What  little  has 
been  heretofore  in  my  own  power  I  have  also  done. 

Having  lately  established  myself  in  Richmond,  and 
undertaken  the  editorship  of  the  Southern  Literary  Mes 
senger,  and  my  circumstances  having  thus  become  better 
than  formerly,  I  have  ventured  to  offer  my  aunt  a  home. 

than  to  discredit  the  marriage.  The  license  was  the  last  issued  on 
that  day,  and  it  fails  to  prove  the  marriage  only  because  there  is 
no  return  of  the  minister  officiating ;  but  such  a  return  was  not 
obligatory,  and  there  are  several  other  entries  in  the  records  that 
are  similarly  incomplete. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  79 

She  is  now  therefore  in  Richmond,  with  her  daughter 
Virginia,  and  is,  for  the  present  boarding  at  the  house 
of  a  Mrs.  Yarrington.  My  salary  is  only  at  present 
about  $800  per  aim.,  and  the  charge  per  week  for  our 
board,  (Mrs.  Clemm's,  her  daughter's,  and  my  own,)  is 
$9.  I  am  thus  particular  in  stating  my  precise  situa 
tion  that  you  may  be  the  better  enabled  to  judge  in 
regard  to  the  propriety  of  granting  the  request  which  I 
am  now  about  to  make  for  Mrs.  Clemm. 

It  is  ascertained  that  if  Mrs.  C.  could  obtain  the 
means  of  opening,  herself,  a  boarding-house  in  this  city, 
she  could  support  herself  and  daughter  comfortably  with 
something  to  spare.  But  a  small  capital  would  be  nec 
essary  for  an  undertaking  of  this  nature,  and  many  of 
the  widows  of  our  first  people  are  engaged  in  it,  and  find 
it  profitable.  I  am  willing  to  advance,  for  my  own  part, 
$100,  and  I  believe  that  Wm.  &  R.  Poe  will  advance 
$100.  If  then  you  would  so  far  aid  her  in  her  design 
as  to  loan  her  yourself  $100  she  will  have  sufficient  to 
commence  with.  I  will  be  responsible  for  the  repayment 
of  the  sum,  in  a  year  from  this  date,  if  you  can  make  it 
convenient  to  comply  with  her  request. 

I  beg  you,  my  dear  Sir,  to  take  this  subject  into  consid 
eration.     I  feel  deeply  for  the  distresses  of  Mrs.  Clemm, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  feel  interested  in  relieving  them. 
[Signature  cut  off.] 

P.  S.  I  am  the  son  of  David  Poe,  Jr.  Mrs.  C.'s 
brother.1 

George  Poe  sent  the  money,  but  the  history  of 
the  plan  belongs  to  a  later  period. 

1  Poe  to  George  Poe,  MS. 


80  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

From  the  first  Poe  had  entered  upon  his  work 
with  vigor,  and  he  soon  took  entire  charge  of  the 
magazine.  Besides  fulfilling  the  manifold  and  dis 
tracting  duties  incident  to  mere  editorship  he  con 
tributed  tales,  poems,  and  reviews,  signed  and  un 
signed,  as  well  as  compendious  articles,  which  al 
though  unclaimed  are  clearly  from  his  hand.  A 
considerable  portion  of  this  matter  had  been  writ 
ten  before  he  came  to  Richmond,  but  the  entire 
mass  is  so  large  as  to  prove  that  he  was  a  not  less 
diligent  than  facile  author.  Much  of  his  work  was 
of  slight  importance  then,  and  now  posterity  is  in 
terested  in  little  more  of  it  than  a  few  poems  and 
the  seven  new  tales,  "  Loss  of  Breath,"  "  King 
Pest,"  "Shadow,"  " Metzengerstein,"  "Due  de 
L'Omelette,"  "  Epimanes,"  and  "  A  Tale  of  Jeru 
salem,"  which  he  added  to  the  seven  already  issued. 

These  fourteen,  presumably  all  but  two  of  the 
"  Tales  of  the  Folio  Club,"  which  the  Philadelphia 
house  had  so  long  held  under  consideration,  stand 
in  a  group  by  themselves  as  the  first  fruits  of  Poe's 
genius.  In  conception  and  execution  they  afford 
types  of  his  later  works  in  both  the  arabesque  and 
grotesque  manner,  as  he  afterwards  happily  named 
the  two  extremes  of  his  style,  and  without  requir 
ing  too  close  a  scrutiny  they  illustrate  the  develop 
ment  of  his  mind  and  art.  Only  five  of  them  are 
purely  imaginative,  and  of  these  "  Berenice  "  is  the 
most  varied  and  comprehensive  ;  in  it  Poe's  hero 
first  comes  upon  the  stage,  a  man  struck  with  some 


AT   THE  SOUTH.  81 

secret  disease,  given  to  the  use  of  drugs  and  to  f: 
musing  over  old  books  in  an  antiquated  and  gloomy  I 
chamber,  and  reserved  for  a  horrible  experience.  1 
In  it,  too,  are  such  themes  of  evil  fascination  for 
his  mind  as  the  epileptic  patient  and  the  premature 
burial ;  such  marks  of  his  handling  as  the  cousin- 
ship  of  the  principal  actors,  the  description  of 
morbid  physical  changes,  the  minute  analysis  of 
sensations,  the  half-superstitious  reference  to  me 
tempsychosis,  and  the  vivid  analysis  of  the  effects 
of  drugs ;  and  such  traits  of  literary  style  as  the 
absence  of  conversation,  the  theatrically  elaborated 
scene  of  the  action,  the  speed  of  the  narrative  with 
its  sudden  and  yet  carefully  prepared  catastrophe. 
"  Berenice "  reveals  a  mind  at  once  analytical 
and  constructive,  in  which  the  imagination  is  the 
dominant  faculty  and  a  taste  for  sensuous  effects, 
melodramatic  incidents,  and  fantastic  suggestions 
is  the  most  shaping  influence.  Defective  as  the 
tale  is  in  refinement  —  Poe  never  but  once  indulged 
again  in  a  denoument  of  such  mere  physical  horror 
—  it  exhibits,  in  however  crude  a  form,  the  capac 
ity  to  conceive  startling  imaginative  effects  and  to 
select  the  right  means  to  bring  them  about  directly, 
forcibly,  and  without  observation ;  in  a  word,  ar 
tistic  power.  In  the  Venetian  story  of  "  The  Vis 
ionary,"  now  known  as  "The  Assignation,"  there  is 
more  of  splendid  coloring,  of  the  purely  spectacular 
and  decorative  element ;  in  the  Hungarian  myth  of 
"  Metzeriger stein  "  there  is  a  more  violent  and  raw 


82  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

superstition  ;  in  "Morella" — the  history  of  the  re 
volting  victory  of  that  aspiring  will,  by  which  the 
dying  mother's  spirit,  passing  into  her  new-born 
babe,  retained  in  that  childish  frame  the  full  intel 
ligence  and  ripe  passions  of  womanhood  —  there  is 
a  solemn  and  breathless  dread  beneath  the  com 
ing  of  a  vague  but  sure  terror :  and  these  several 
traits  individualize  the  three  tales,  but  in  none  of 
them  is  there  the  finely  wrought  complexity  of 
"  Berenice."  All  yield,  however,  in  comparison 
with  the  fifth  and  last  of  the  early  arabesque  series, 
the  parable  called  •"  Shadow,"  which,  within  its  nar 
row  limits  of  a  page  or  two,  is  at  once  the  most 
noble  and  most  artistic  expression  of  Poe's  imagi 
nation  during  the  first  period  of  his  career,  and 
furthermore  is  alone  distinguished  by  the  even  flow 
and  delicacy  of  transition  that  belong  to  his  best 
prose  style.  The  elements  in  this  rhapsody  of  gloom 
are  simple  and  massive,  the  accessories  in  perfect 
keeping ;  the  fine  monotone  of  stifled  and  expectant 
emotion  in  the  breasts  of  the  Greek  revelers  in  the 
lighted,  sepulchral,  plague-isolated  hall  is  just  sus 
tained  at  its  initial  pitch  until  the  one  thrilling, 
solitary  change  arises  in  the  emergence  of  the 
shadow  from  the  black  draperies  of  the  chamber, 
and  its  motionless  relief  under  the  gloom  of  the 
seven  iron  lamps,  against  the  burnished,  brazen 
door,  opposite  to  the  feet  of  the  young  and  shrouded 
Zoilus  —  as  it  were  the  semblance  of  a  man,  but 
"the  shadow  neither  of  man,  nor  of  God,  nor  of 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  83 

any  familiar  thing,"  —  the  vague,  formless  One 
that  was  not  indifferent  to  the  low-voiced  ques 
tion  of  Oinos,  but  spoke  and  told  its  dwelling-place 
and  its  appellation ;  "  and  then  did  we,  the  seven, 
start  from  our  seats  in  horror,  and  stand  trembling, 
and  shuddering,  and  aghast,  for  the  tones  in  the 
voice  of  the  shadow  were  not  the  tones  of  any  one 
being,  but  of  a  multitude  of  beings,  and,  varying  in 
their  cadences  from  syllable  to  syllable,  fell  duskily 
upon  our  ears  in  the  well-remembered  and  familiar 
accents  of  many  thousand  departed  friends." 

Perhaps  the  "MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle,"  reprinted 
as  from  Miss  Eliza  Leslie's  annual,  "  The  Gift," 
full  as  it  is  of  fantasy  and  magnificent  scenic  effects 
of  ocean  views,  should  be  placed  among  the  tales 
of  pure  imagination ;  it  stands  slightly  apart  from 
them  only  because  it  has  some  relationship  with 
those  stories,  partly  of  adventure,  partly  of  science, 
which  Poe  built  rather  out  of  his  acquired  knowl 
edge  than  his  dreams.  Of  this  class  u  Hans  Pf  aall," 
the  narrative  of  a  voyage  to  the  moon,  is  the  first 
complete  type.  The  idea  of  such  a  passage  from 
the  earth  to  its  nearest  neighbor  in  space  was  not 
novel,  nor  was  the  astronomical  information  in 
volved  by  any  means  abstruse,  being  furnished  in 
fact  by  Herschel's  popular  treatise,  then  first  pub 
lished  in  America ;  but  Poe  claimed  that  the  design 
of  making  a  fiction  plausible  by  the  use  of  scientific 
facts  and  principles  was  original,  and  he  certainly 
worked  it  out  with  great  patience  and  skill,  and  even 


84  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

a  high  degree  of  scientific  consistency.  It  is  not 
without  obligation  to  an  obscure  deus  ex  machina, 
a  providence  unknown  to  physics,  which  overruled 
the  balloonist's  fate ;  but,  with  all  its  whimsicalities, 
it  exhibits  for  the  first  time  the  keenness  and  lu 
cidity  of  Poe's  intelligence  as  distinguished  from 
his  imagination,  and  proves  that  he  then  possessed 
a  considerable  power  of  applied  thought.  It  is 
noteworthy,  too,  a,s  the  earliest  of  those  attempts  to 
gull  the  public,  for  which  he  afterwards  became  no 
torious.  At  the  time  it  was  less  successful  in  this 
respect  than  the  celebrated  "  Moon-Hoax  "  of  Mr. 
Locke,  published  a  few  weeks  later  in  the  "  New 
York  Sun,"  which  made  fools  of  many  highly  in 
telligent  citizens  and  caused  Poe  some  chagrin,  as 
he  showed  in  his  later  comments  upon  it,  because 
so  many  more  people  were  taken  in  by  it  than  by 
"  Hans  Pfaall,"  while  he  had  put  himself  to  so  much 
more  pains  than  Mr.  Locke  to  seem  truthful ;  cer 
tainly  if  verisimilitude  were  the  gauge  of  the  crowd's 
folly  in  credulity,  he  deserved  better  luck  than  his 
rival. 

The  remainder  of  the  tales  Poe  would  have  called 
grotesque.  Unfortunately  he  was  not  so  plentifully 
gifted  with  humor  as  with  either  imagination  or 
intelligence,  and  consequently  his  fame  would  suffer 
less  by  the  omission  than  by  the  retention  of  these 
lucubrations.  Some  of  them  are  the  merest  ex 
travaganzas,  such  as  the  "  Due  de  L'Omelette,"  in 
which  the  devil  poses  as  a  gambler  who  can  lose,  or 


AT    THE  SOUTH.  85 

"  Bon-Boii,"  in  which  he  plays  his  part  as  a  canni 
bal  of  human  souls.  Some  are  satirical,  and  among 
them  is1  to  be  reckoned  one  of  his  weakest  produc 
tions,  "  Loss  of  Breath,  A  Tale  d  la  Blackwood," 
which  in  its  first  form,  with  its  expanded  narra 
tive  of  the  hanging  and  the  burial  alive,  was  more 
perceptibly  aimed  at  the  inane  jargon  (as  it  was 
then  thought)  of  German  metaphysics.  In  all  of 
them,  too,  Poe  is  less  original  than  in  his  other 
tales ;  he  shows  more  plainly  the  traces  of  his  read 
ing.  "  King  Pest "  is  very  closely  modeled  on  Viv 
ian  Grey's  adventure  in  the  castle  of  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Johannisberger  (the  cabinet  of  the  Prince 
of  Little  Lilliput  in  the  same  novel  contains  the 
double  of  the  Saracen's  horse  in  Metzengerstein's 
tapestry) ;  and  "  Lionizing,"  a  sketch  which  was 
repeatedly  and  elaborately  corrected  in  later  years, 
apart  from  its  Shandean  touch,  copies  in  style 
and  conception  "  Too  Beautiful  for  Anything "  in 
Bulwer's  "The  Ambitious  Student  in  IU  Health, 
and  other  Papers,"  apparently  a  favorite  book  of 
Poe's.  "  Epimanes  "  and  "  A  Tale  of  Jerusalem," 
the  flattest  of  the  series,  need  hardly  be  mentioned. 
The  humor  in  all,  where  it  exists  in  any  degree,  is 
too  hollow,  too  mocking  and  sardonic,  to  be  agree 
able  ;  there  is  no  laughter  in  it.  The  fact  is  that 
just  as  Poe  desired  to  be  considered  precocious  he 
had  also  the  weakness  of  wishing  to  be  thought  a 

O  O 

universal  genius.  The  grotesque  tales  are  the  spec 
tral  progeny  of  this  illusion. 


86  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

But  it  was  as  a  critic,  not  as  an  imaginative  or 
humorous  author,  that  Poe  made  the  editorial  hit 
that  placed  the  new  Southern  monthly  at  once  be 
side  the  "  Knickerbocker  "  and  the  "  New  Eng- 
lander  "  as  a  national  magazine.  While  at  Balti 
more  he  had  contributed  a  few  perfunctory  book 
notices,  but  only  when  he  was  publicly  known  as 
editor  did  he,  to  use  the  expression  of  a  contem 
porary,  "  fall  in  with  his  broad-axe."  Late  in  the 
fall  of  1835  there  appeared  the  loudly-announced, 
much-bepuffed  "Norman  Leslie,"  one  of  the  pop-- 
ular  novels  of  its  day ;  it  was  ambitious,  crude, 
and  foolish,  but  its  pretentiousness  seems  the  par 
ticular  quality  which  led  Poe  to  single  it  out  for 
an  example.  In  the  issue  for  December,  therefore, 
he  subjected  it  to  such  scrutiny  as  had  never  been 
known  in  our  country  before,  and  he  did  his  task 
so  trenchantly  and  convincingly,  with  such  spirit 
and  effect,  that  the  public  were  widely  interested  ; 
they  bought,  read,  and  looked  for  more.  The 
Southern  press  with  one  voice  cried  on  havoc  ;  they 
were  only  too  glad  to  find  in  their  own  country  a 
youth  with  the  boldness  to  rouse  and  the  skill  to 
worry  Knickerbocker  game,  for  the  young  author, 
Theodore  S.  Fay,  was  a  pet  of  the  metropolitan 
litterateurs  and  an  associate  editor  of  the  "  New 
York  Mirror,"  then  the  best  literary  weekly  of  the 
country.  Even  if  Poe  had  not  been  applauded  to 
the  echo,  he  was  not  of  a  nature  to  hesitate  in  fol 
lowing  up  a  predetermined  line  of  policy ;  but  he 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  87 

soon  found  a  stand  making  against  him.  "  There 
was  some  show  at  first  of  closing  the  New  York 
columns,  with  gentleman-like  contempt,  to  any  re 
monstrance  against  the  insult  ;  but  at  length  the 
"  Mirror,"  after  several  insidious  attacks,  made  one 
openly,  to  wit  :  — 

"  (dF3  Those  who  have  read  the  notices  of  American 
books  in  a  certain  '  southern  '  monthly  which  is  striving 
to  gain  notoriety  by  the  loudness  of  its  abuse,  may  find 
amusement  in  the  sketch,  in  another  page,  entitled  '  The 
Successful  Novel.'  The  Southern  Literary  Messenger 
knows  d^p^  by  experience  .JHJ1  what  it  is  to  write  a  suc 
cessless  novel. 


The  sketch  referred  to  was  a  clever  squib  in  the 
style  of  Poe's  "  Lionizing,"  and  while  satirizing  his 
attention  to  the  minutiae  of  style  and  his  readi 
ness  to  cry  plagiarism  somewhat  in  a  jackdaw  man 
ner,  as  if  the  word  were  his  whole  stock  in  trade, 
insinuated  further  that  the  Harpers  had  rejected 
Poe's  longer,  as  the  "  Mirror  "  itself  had  his  shorter, 
effusions.  In  this  charge  there  was  little,  if  any, 
truth  ;  and  to  the  point  Poe  replied  with  a  flat 
denial  :  he  "  never  in  his  life  wrote  or  published,  or 
attempted  to  publish,  a  novel  either  successful  or 
successless,"  2  —  a  statement  which  must  be  under 
stood  as  relegating  into  nonentity  the  alleged  early 
work  of  Poe,  "  An  Artist  at  Home  and  Abroad." 

1  Neio  York  Mirror,  April  9,  1836. 

2  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  ii.  327  (April,  1836). 


88  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

This  trivial  incident  drew  from  Poe  a  statement  of 
the  spirit  in  which  he  believed  himself  to  be  under 
taking  the  reform  of  criticism,  and  the  grounds  of 
his  action :  — 

"  There  was  a  time,  it  is  true,  when  we  cringed  to 
foreign  opinion  —  let  us  even  say  when  we  paid  a  most 
servile  deference  to  British  critical  dicta.  That  an 
American  book  could,  by  any  possibility,  be  worthy 
perusal,  was  an  idea  by  no  means  extensively  prevalent 
in  the  land  ;  and  if  we  were  induced  to  read  at  all  the 
productions  of  our  native  writers,  it  was  only  after  re 
peated  assurances  from  England  that  such  productions 
were  not  altogether  contemptible  .  .  .  Not  so,  however, 
with  our  present  follies.  We  are  becoming  boisterous 
and  arrogant  in  the  pride  of  a  too  speedily  assumed  lit 
erary  freedom.  We  throw  off  with  the  most  presumptu 
ous  and  unmeaning  hauteur,  all  deference  whatever  to 
foreign  opinion  —  we  forget,  in  the  puerile  inflation  of 
vanity,  that  the  world  is  the  true  theatre  of  the  biblical 
histrio  —  we  get  up  a  hue  and  cry  about  the  necessity  of 
encouraging  native  writers  of  merit  —  we  blindly  fancy 
that  we  can  accomplish  this  by  indiscriminate  puffing  of 
good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  without  taking  the  trouble  to 
consider  that  what  we  choose  to  denominate  encourage 
ment  is  thus,  by  its  general  application,  precisely  the 
reverse.  In  a  word,  so  far  from  being  ashamed  of  the 
many  disgraceful  literary  failures  to  which  our  own  inor 
dinate  vanities  and  misapplied  patriotism  have  lately 
given  birth,  and  so  far  from  deeply  lamenting  that  these 
daily  puerilities  are  of  home  manufacture,  we  adhere  perti 
naciously  to  our  original  blindly  conceived  idea,  and  thus 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  89 

often  find  ourselves  involved  in  the  gross  paradox  of  lik 
ing  a  stupid  book  the  better,  because,  sure  enough,  its 
stupidity  is  American."  : 

These  views  were  by  no  means  novel  or  unshared. 
The  periodical  press  was  frequently  weighted  or 
padded  with  essays,  reports  of  lectures,  or  editorial 
remarks,  endeavoring  to  explain  the  feebleness  of 
American  criticism,  and  deprecating  it.  A  writer  in 
the  "  Knickerbocker "  itself  ascribes  many  causes, 
not  confined,  perhaps,  to  that  period,  such  as  the 
interests  of  publishers,  the  social  relations  of  edit 
ors,  the  wish  to  encourage  the  young,  the  fear  of 
being  esteemed  unpatriotic,  and  the  like.  What 
distinguished  Poe  was  the  audacity  with  which  he 
took  the  unenvied  post,  and  the  vigor  with  which 
he  struck.  Undoubtedly  his  worldly  fortunes  were 
affected  by  the  enmities  he  thus  made.  The  New 
Yorkers  never  forgave  him.  Colonel  Stone,  of 
the  "Commercial  Advertiser,"  and  W.  Gaylord 
Clarke,  of  the  "  Philadelphia  Gazette,"  denounced 
him,  and  in  the  house  of  his  friends  the  "  Newbern 
Spectator  "  was  an  envious  foe.  But  the  presump 
tuous  young  critic  did  not  therefore  withdraw  his 
hand  ;  and  though  at  a  time  when  Gifford  and 
Wilson  handed  down  the  traditions  of  critical  style 
he  did  not  write  with  the  urbanity  that  now  ob 
tains,  though  he  was  not  choice  in  his  phrase  nor 
delicate  in  his  ridicule,  all  of  his  adverse  decisions 
but  one  (that  on  "  Sartor  Resartus  ")  have  been 

1  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  ii.  326   (April,  1836). 


90  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

sustained.  Moreover,  the  severity,  what  is  called 
the  venom  and  heartlessness,  of  these  critiques  has 
been  much  exaggerated ;  there  were  in  all  but  four 
like  that  upon  "  Norman  Leslie,"  and  these  were 
milder  than  the  first,  a  fact  very  creditable  to  Poe 
when  one  recollects  how  loudly  he  was  urged  "  to 
hang,  draw,  and  Quarterly,"  and  how  aptly  such  a 
literary  temper  fell  in  with  the  proud  self-confi 
dence  of  his  nature.  His  end  was  justice,  if  his 
manner  was  not  courtesy. 

In  fact,  his  reputation  as  a  critic  would  now 
suffer  rather  for  the  mercy  he  showed  than  for  the 
vengeance  he  took.  With  what  hesitancy  he  sug 
gests  that  Mrs.  Sigourney  might  profitably  forget 
Mrs.  Hemans ;  with  what  consideration  he  hints  a 
fault  in  Mrs.  Ellet,  or  just  notices  a  blemish  in 
Miss  Gould ;  with  what  respect  he  treats  Mellen 
and  Gallagher !  And  if  he  asserts  that  Drake  had 
an  analogical  rather  than  a  creative  mind,  and  in 
sinuates  that  Halleck's  laurel  was  touched  with 
an  artificial  green,  —  these  were  the  names  that  a 
lesser  man  would  have  let  pass  unchallenged.  The 
whole  mass  of  this  criticism  —  but  a  small  portion 
of  which  deals  with  imaginative  work  —  is  particu 
larly  characterized  by  a  minuteness  of  treatment 
which  springs  from  a  keen,  artistic  sensibility,  and 
by  that  constant  regard  to  the  originality  of  the 
writer  which  is  so  frequently  an  element  in  the 
jealousy  of  genius.  One  wearies  in  reading  it 
now ;  but  one  gains  thereby  the  better  impression 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  91 

of  Poe's  patience  and  of  the  alertness  and  compass 
of  his  mental  curiosity.  Here  and  there,  too,  one 
sees  signs  of  his  growth,  as  when  he  praises  with 
enthusiasm  Godwin  and  Coleridge,  Bulwer,  Dis 
raeli,  and  Scott ;  or  one  finds  the  marks  of  his  pe 
culiar  individuality,  the  early  bent  of  his  mind,  as 
when  he  mentions  the  love  of  analytical  beauty  in 
this  author,  and  whispers  to  the  next  the  secret  of 
verisimilitude  by  obscuring  the  improbability  of 
the  general  in  the  naturalness  and  accuracy  of  the 
particular.  In  especial  some  progress  is  made  in 
his  poetic  theory,  but  this  must  be  treated  by  it 
self. 

He  had  reprinted  without  a  signature  his  "  Let 
ter  to  B "  from  the  1831  edition  of  his  poems, 

with  the  editorial  remark  that  "  of  course  we  shall 
not  be  called  upon  to  indorse  all  the  writer's  opin 
ions."  To  the  somewhat  bald  conclusions  there 
advanced,  that  poetry  should  aim  at  pleasure,  and 
be  brief,  indefinite,  and  musical,  he  now  had  some 
thing  to  add  in  a  peculiar  dialect  of  German  meta 
physics  and  phrenology,  then  the  fashion.  The 
most  significant  passage  is  one  in  which,  after  iden 
tifying  "  the  Faculty  of  Ideality  "  with  the  "  Senti 
ment  of  Poesy,"  he  goes  on  as  follows  :  — 

"  This  sentiment  is  the  sense  of  the  beautiful,  of  the 
sublime,  and  of  the  mystical.  Thence  spring  immedi 
ately  admiration  of  the  fair  flowers,  the  fairer  forests, 
the  bright  valleys  and  rivers  and  mountains  of  the  Earth 
—  and  love  of  the  gleaming  stars  and  other  burning 


92  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

glories  of  Heaven  —  and,  mingled  up  inextricably  with 
this  love  and  this  admiration  of  Heaven  and  of  Earth, 
the  unconquerable  desire  —  to  know.  Poesy  is  the  sen 
timent  of  Intellectual  Happiness  here,  and  the  Hope  of 
a  higher  Intellectual  Happiness  hereafter.  Imagina 
tion  is  its  soul.  With  the  passions  of  mankind,  —  al 
though  it  may  modify  them  greatly  —  although  it  may 
exalt,  or  inflame,  or  purify,  or  control  them  —  it  would 
require  little  ingenuity  to  prove  that  it  has  no  inevitable, 
and  indeed  no  necessary  co-existence.  .  .  .  We  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  a  man  highly  endowed  with  the 
powers  of  Causality  —  that  is  to  say,  a  man  of  meta 
physical  acumen  —  will,  even  with  a  very  deficient  share 
of  Ideality,  compose  a  finer  poem  (if  we  test  it,  as  we 
should,  by  its  measure  of  exciting  the  Poetic  Sentiment) 
than  one  who,  without  such  metaphysical  acumen,  shall 
be  gifted,  in  the  most  extraordinary  degree,  with  the 
faculty  of  Ideality.  For  a  poem  is  not  the  Poetic  fac 
ulty,  but  the  means  of  exciting  it  in  mankind."  ] 

Poe's  meaning  may  not  be  entirely  plain  at  first 
sight,  built  up  as  it  is  out  of  obscure  Coleridgian 
elements,  which  lie  derived  mainly  from  the  "  Bio- 
graphia  Literaria."  In  the  plainest  words,  Poe  con 
ceived  that  beauty,  whether  natural  or  imaginary, 
whether  springing  from  the  creative  act  of  God  or 
the  creative  thought  of  man,  affects  the  mind  as  a 
glimpse  of  the  infinite,  and  thus  excites  instan 
taneous  pleasure,  and  furthermore,  by  intimating  a 
fuller  delight  beyond,  stimulates  men  to  endeavor 
to  penetrate  deeper  into  the  mystery  that  encom- 

1  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  ii.  328   (April,  1836). 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  93 

passes  them.  Beauty  is  thus  a  revelation  of  infi 
nite  truth,  seized  only  by  the  imagination.  Poetry 
consequently,  according  to  Poe's  view  at  this  time, 
makes  its  highest  appeal  to  the  intellect  instead 
of  the  passions,  and  requires  imagination  rather 
than  sympathetic  power  in  both  its  makers  and  its 
readers. 

The  remainder  of  his  proposition  amounts  only 
to  saying  that  one  who  is  able  to  analyze  the  ele 
ments  which  give  rise  to  his  own  experience  of  the 
vision  that  poetry  brings,  and  thus  to  discern  how 
such  moods  are  caused,  can  by  forethought  so  select 
and  combine  these  elements  as  to  arouse  the  same 
state  in  others,  whereas  one  who  is  merely  suscep 
tible  to  such  experience  might  not  be  capable  of 
reproducing  it  with  certainty :  the  latter  has  the 
poe-tic  temperament,  the  former  has  in  addition 
the  analytical  power  which  is  necessary  to  art; 
one  is  the  creature,  the  other  the  master,  of  his 
inspiration.  All  this,  which  means  that  "  The  An 
cient  Mariner  "  had  been  written  by  Coleridge,  is 
a  good  illustration  of  the  rationalizing  by  which 
Poe  was  accustomed  to  feed  his  own  vanity  indi 
rectly.  Did  he  not  possess  "analytical  power"? 
Was  he  not  distinguished  by  "metaphysical  acu 
men  "  ?  And  through  all,  too,  most  noticeable  is 
his  constant  parroting  of  Coleridge,  who  was,  taken 
all  in  all,  the  guiding  genius  of  Poe's  entire  intel 
lectual  life. 

Of   more  consequence  than  either  Poe's  mysti- 


94  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

^  cism  or  his  metaphysical  acumen,  however,  was  the 
lesson  he  learned  from  Schlegel,  and  now  adduced 
in  support  of  his  pet  canon,  that  poems  should  be 
brief.  "  In  pieces  of  less  extent,"  he  writes,  "  the 
pleasure  is  unique^  in  the  proper  acceptation  of  that 
term  —  the  understanding  is  employed,  without  dif 
ficulty,  in  the  contemplation  of  the  picture  as  a 
whole  —  and  thus  its  effect  will  depend,  in  a  very 
great  degree,  upon  the  perfection  of  its  finish,  upon 
the  nice  adaptation  of  its  constituent  parts,  and 
especially  upon  what  is  rightly  termed  by  Schlegel, 
the  unity  or  totality  of  interest."  1  This  is  the 
first  expression  of  Poe's  intellectual  sense  of  poetic 
form,  the  quality  in  which  his  early  verse  was  most 
defective  and  his  latest  most  eminent. 

The  new  poems  which  were  published  in  the 
"Messenger,"  out  of  his  compositions  since  1831, 
were  the  five  scenes  from  that  academical  drama, 
"  Politian,"  the  "  Hymn  "  in  "  Morella,"  "  To  Mary," 

"  To "  in  "  The  Visionary,"  "  To  Eliza,"  "  To 

Zante,"  and  the  "  Bridal  Ballad."2  These  offer  no 
occasion  for  remark  in  this  place,  except  that  the 
latter  contained  the  following  stanza,  which,  per- 

1  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  ii.  113  (January,  1836). 

2  Of  these  To  Mary,  To ,  To  Eliza,  and  the  Bridal  Ballad 

are  now  known  in  revised  versions,  and  the  first  three  are  enti 
tled  respectively  To  F ,  To  One  in  Paradise,  and  to  To  F s 

S.  0 d.     An  earlier  version  of  To  One   in  Paradise,  from 

some  unknown  source,  is  quoted  from  The  Athenceum  by  Curwen 
in  his  Sorrow  and  Song.     To  Zante  was  suggested  by  a  passage 
in  Chateaubriand's  Itineraire  de  Paris  a  Jerusalem,  already  men 
tioned. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  95 

haps,  marks  the  nadir  of  Poe's  descent  into  the 
prosaic,  tasteless,  and  absurd :  - 

"And  thus  they  said  I  plighted 

An  irrevocable  vow, 
And  my  friends  are  all  delighted 
That  I  his  love  have  requited, 
And  my  mind  is  much  benighted 

If  I  am  not  happy  now." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  maturer 
judgment  of  the  poet  canceled  these  lines,  nor 
would  it  be  useful  to  revive  their  memory  were  it 
not  to  give,  by  a  striking  example,  an  impression 
once  for  all  of  the  real  worthlessness  of  much  of 
Poe's  early  work.  Of  his  old  poems  he  reprinted 
in  the  '"  Messenger,"  in  forms  more  or  less  revised, 
"Irene,"  UA  P^ean,"  "The  Valley  Nis,"  "To 
Helen,"  "To  Science,"  "Israfel,"  "The  City  of 
Sin,"  from  the  New  York  volume,  and  "  The 
Coliseum,"  a  fragment  of  "Politian,"  from  the 
Baltimore  "  Saturday  Visiter." 

The  paucity  of  Poe's  poetic  productions  while 
editing  the  "  Messenger  "  may  be  laid  partly  to  his 
lack  of  leisure.  Indeed,  he  never  wrote  poetry 
except  in  seasons  of  solitary  musing.  Now  he  was 
largely  employed  in  the  correspondence  and  routine 
business  of  the  office,  or  in  simply  furnishing  copy, 
or  attracting  public  interest  by  attention  to  the 
topics  of  the  hour.  The  most  noted  article  of  this 
transitory  nature  was  that  in  which  he  demon 
strated  that  Maelzel's  Chess  Player  must  be  oper 
ated  by  human  agency,  and  solved  the  methods 


96  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

used.  The  paper  was  well  reasoned,  and  shows 
that  its  author  had  a  quick  and  observant  eye,  but 
it  has  been  vastly  overrated,  as  any  one  may  con 
vince  himself  by  comparing  it  minutely  with  Sir 
David  Brewster's  "  Letters  on  Natural  Magic,"  to 
which  it  stands  confessedly  obliged,  and  from  which 
it  is  partly  paraphrased.  Another  article,  "  Pina- 
kidia,"  being  selections  from  Poe's  commonplace 
book,  is  worth  a  moment's  detention  for  the  light 
it  incidentally  throws  on  his  habits  as  a  scholar. 
In  prefacing  the  clippings  (which  by  an  obvious 
but  very  unfortunate  misprint,  never  as  yet  cor 
rected  in  any  edition  of  his  works,  are  declared  to 
be  original  instead  of  not  original),  he  says  that  in 
foreign  magazines  extracts  of  this  sort  are  usually 
taken  "  by  wholesale  from  such  works  as  the  '  Bib- 
liotheque  des  Memorabilia  Literaria,'  the  '  Recueil 
des  Bon  (sic)  Pensees,'  the  '  Lettres  Edifiantes  et 
Curieuses,'  the  '  Literary  Memoirs '  of  Sallengre, 
the  '  Melanges  Lite*raires  '  of  Suard  and  Andre, 
or  the  4  Pieces  Interessantes  et  Pen  Counties '  of 
La  Place."  1  These  titles  must  have  been  taken 
down  at  hap-hazard,  for  a  thorough  search  of  bib 
liographies  fails  to  reveal  the  existence  of  the  first 
two,  and  the  others,  apart  from  their  bad  French, 
are  incorrectly  given.  The  earmark  in  this  mas 
querade  of  borrowed  learning  is  seen  in  the  "  'Me 
langes  LiteYaires'  of  Suard  and  Andre,"  —  a  title 
evidently  noted  from  the  recent  translation  of 
i  Works,  ii.  507. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  97 

"  Schlegel's  Lectures  on  the  Drama "  (which  fur 
nished  some  extracts  to  the  body  of  the  article),  for 
there  alone  it  occurs,  the  translator  having  erred  in 
rendering  "  Suard  und  Andre"  (andere),  that  is, 
Suard  and  others  ;  Poe  innocently  followed  him, 
and  so  tripped.  The  satirical  young  editor  goes  on 
to  say  that  "  Disraeli's  '  Curiosities  of  Literature,' 
'  Literary  Character,'  and  '  Calamities  of  Authors ' 
have  of  late  years  proved  exceedingly  convenient 
to  some  little  American  pilferers  in  this  line,  but 
are  now  becoming  too  generally  known  ; "  and  forth 
with  he  .takes  from  this  same  convenient  repertory 
several  fine  bits,  including  nearly  all  the  alleged 
plagiarisms  of  the  poets.1  Similar  examples  of  the 
disingenuousness  of  Poe,  the  flimsiness  of  his  pre 
tended  scholarship,  and  his  readiness  to  appropriate 
from  others  by  easy  paraphrase  occur  throughout 
his  career. 

In  Poe's  private  life  during  the  eighteen  months 
of  his  residence  at  Richmond  the  principal  event 
was  his  public  marriage  to  his  cousin.  On  May  16, 

1  A  more  curious  instance  of  Poe's  mode  of  dealing  with  author 
ities  is  his  note  on  Israfel,  which  originally  read,  "  And  the  angel 
Israfel,  who  has  the  sweetest  voice  of  all  God's  creatures  :  Koran." 
The  passage  referred  to  is  not  in  the  Koran,  but  in  Sale's  Pre 
liminary  Discourse  (iv.  71).  Poe  derived  it  from  the  notes  to 
Moore's  Lalla  Roolch,  where  it  is  correctly  attributed  to  Sale.  At 
a  later  time  he  interpolated  the  entire  phrase,  "whose  heart 
strings  are  a  lute"  (the  idea  on  which  his  poem  is  founded), 
which  is  neither  in  Moore,  Sale,  nor  the  Koran ;  and  with  this 
highly  original  emendation,  the  note  now  stands  in  his  Works  as 
an  extract  from  the  Koran. 

n  m*r  OL  •,  •    -»•« 


\A, 


98  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

1836,  having  secured  one  Thomas  W.  Cleland  as 
his  surety,  he  gave  a  marriage  bond  as  the  law  re 
quired  ;  and  Cleland  was  further  obliging  enough  to 
take  oath  before  the  deputy  clerk,  Charles  Howard, 
"  that  Virginia  E.  Clemm  is  of  the  full  age  of 
twenty-one  years,  and  a  resident  of  the  said  city."  1 
The  ceremony  was  performed  on  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  at  the  boarding-house  of  the  family,  by 
the  Rev.  Amasa  Converse,  a  Presbyterian  minis 
ter,  then  editor  of  the  "  Southern  Religious  Tele 
graph."  2  Mrs.  Clemm,  whom  the  minister  remem 
bered  as  "  being  polished,  dignified,  and  agreeable 
in  her  bearing,"  was  present,  and  gave  her  consent 
freely ;  the  bride,  too,  had  a  pleasing  manner,  but 
seemed  to  him  very  young.3  Virginia  was  in  fact 
slightly  under  fourteen.  Poe  was  twenty-seven. 

At  this  time  it  was  expected  that  Mrs.  Clemm, 
who  had  not  abandoned  her  plan  of  starting  a 
boarding-house,  would 'rent  a  house  recently  pur 
chased  by  Mr.  White,  and  would  board  himself 
and  family  as  well  as  the  newly-married  pair.  The 
arrangement  had  been  made,  and  Poe  had  expended 
all  his  money  and  incurred  a  debt  of  two  hundred 
dollars  in  buying  furniture  before  it  was  discovered 
that  the  house  was  barely  large  enough  for  one 
family,  and  the  scheme  was  abandoned.  In  his 

1  Hustings  Court  Records,  Richmond,  Va. 

2  Southern  Religious  Telegraph,  May  20,  1836;  Richmond  En 
quirer,  May  20,  1836. 

3  Mrs.  F.  B.  Converse  to  the  author,  May  20,  1884. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  99 

consequent  financial  embarrassment,  Poe  wrote  to 
Kennedy  on  June  7,  and  asked  a  loan  of  one  hun 
dred  dollars  for  six  months  in  order  to  meet  a  note 
for  the  same  amount  due  in  three  months  (perhaps 
the  money  advanced  by  George  Poe  in  February), 
which  he  declared  was  his  only  debt.  His  salary, 
he  said,  was  fifteen  dollars  a  week,  and  after  No 
vember  was  to  be  twenty  ;  and  added,  "  Our  Mes 
senger  is  thriving  beyond  all  expectation,  and  I 
myself  have  every  prospect  of  success."  l  Kennedy 
probably  acceded  to  this  request ;  but  however  that 
was,  the  little  family  took  up  their  abode  together, 
and  were  temporarily,  at  least,  well  provided  for. 

Poe  might  now  justly  regard  his  future  as  bright. 
The  "  Messenger  "  had  so  prospered  under  his  man 
agement  that  it  was  an  assured  success,  and  was 
likely  to  afford  him  a  constantly  increasing  income. 
His  reputation  was  steadily  growing ;  the  veteran 
Pauldittg  declared  him  the  best  of  the  young  and 
perhaps  of  the  old  writers ;  the  Southern  press  was 
vociferous  in  its  praises,  and  Poe,  whose  virtue  was 
never  modesty,  took  good  care  that  these  acclaims 
should  not  die  away  unechoed,  as  his  advertising- 
columns  still  show.  He  was  settled  in  life  ;  his  sal 
ary  was  seven  hundred  and  eighty  dollars,  and  was 
to  be  a  thousand  and  forty ;  he  was  actively  plan 
ning  for  future  work,  and  plainly  contemplated  a 
long  residence  in  the  city ;  and  yet  in  a  few  months 
he  was  again  a  wanderer.  The  first  number  of  the 
1  Poe  to  Kennedy,  Ingram,  i.  140. 


100  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

magazine  for  1837  announced  that,  "  Mr.  Poe's  at 
tention  being  called  in  another  direction,  lie  will 
decline,  with  the  present  number,  the  editorial  du 
ties  of  the  4  Messenger ; '  "  and  on  a  later  page  Mr. 
White  added  that  the  resignation  had  taken  effect 
January  3,  but  would  not  prevent  Poe's  contrib 
uting  articles  from  time  to  time.  In  this  number, 
nearly  one  third  of  the  matter,  about  thirty-five  oc 
tavo  pages,  was  by  Poe,  but  up  to  this  date  he  had 
published  no  original  tale  since  the  previous  April, 
and  no  poem  since  August ;  of  criticism,  however, 
there  was  usually  no  lack.  It  is  more  significant 
that  the  October  issue  was  delayed  by  the  illness 
of  both  editor  and  publisher,  and  the  November 
issue  by  a  press  of  business,  while  in  the  latter 
there  is  a  very  marked  shrinking  of  the  space  de 
voted  to  reviews.  Some  light  is  thrown  upon  the 
matter  by  the  following  undated  letter  :  — 

MY  DEAR  EDGAR  :  I  cannot  address  you  in  such  lan 
guage  as  this  occasion  and  my  feelings  demand:  I  must 
he  content  to  speak  to  you  in  my  plain  way.  That  you 
are  sincere  in  all  your  promises  I  firmly  believe.  But 
when  you  once  again  tread  these  streets,  I  have  my 
fears  that  your  resolutions  will  fail  and  that  you  will 
again  drink  till  your  senses  are  lost.  If  you  rely  on 
your  strength  you  are  gone.  Unless  you  look  to  your 
Maker  for  help  you  will  not  be  safe.  How  much  I  re 
gretted  parting  from  you  is  known  to  Him  only  and 
myself.  I  had  become  attached  to  you  ;  I  am  still ;  and 
I  would  willingly  say  return,  did  not  a  knowledge  of 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  101 

your  past  life  make  me  dread  a  speedy  renewal  of  our 
separation.  If  you  would  make  yourself  contented  with 
quarters  in  my  house,  or  with  any  other  private  family, 
where  liquor  is  not  used,  I  should  think  there  was  some 
hope  for  you.  But  if  you  go  to  a  tavern  or  to  any  place 
where  it  is  used  at  table,  you  are  not  safe.  You  have 
fine  talents,  Edgar,  and  you  ought  to  have  them  re 
spected,  as  well  as  yourself.  Learn  to  respect  yourself, 
and  you  will  soon  find  that  you  are  respected.  Separate 
yourself  from  the  bottle,  and  from  bottle  companions,  for 
ever.  Tell  me  if  you  can  and  will  do  so.  If  you  again 
become  an  assistant  in  my  office,  it  must  be  understood 
that  all  engagements  on  my  part  cease  the  moment  you 
get  drunk.  I  am  your  true  friend.  T.  W.  W.1 

The  circumstance  to  which  this  note  refers  evi 
dently  belongs  to  an  early  period  in  Poe's  editorship 
and  was  antecedent  to  his  marriage.  It  has  been 
suggested  that  the  direct  cause  of  Poe's  resignation 
was  Mr.  White's  declining  to  allow  him  higher 
wages  or  a  share  in  the  profits  of  the  magazine; 
but  both  the  demand  and  the  refusal  are  mere  sup 
positions.  It  is  possible  that  his  head  was  turned 
by  his  rapid  and  brilliant  success,  and  he  was  the 
less  solicitous  to  retain  his  post,  particularly  if,  as 
has  been  asserted,2  he  had  received  an  invitation 
from  Dr.  Francis  L.  Hawks,  a  North  Carolina  di 
vine  settled  in  New  York  city,  to  contribute  to  the 
newly  projected  "  New  York  Keview."  But  when 
it  is  recollected  that  Mr.  White  was  Poe's  attached 

i  Griswold,  xxx.  2  Hirst. 


102  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

friend,  and  must  have  required  on  business  grounds 
very  strong  reasons  to  make  him  part  with  the  ed 
itor  who  had  proved  his  capacity  by  making  the 
"  Messenger  "  the  good  investment  it  was,  to  a  can 
did  mind  it  seems  more  probable  that  the  extraor 
dinary  effects  of  Poe's  fits  of  intoxication,  however 
infrequent,  the  irregularity  they  caused  at  the  time 
and  the  exhaustion  they  left  behind,  furnished  the 
real  ground  for  Mr.  White's  determination  to  let 
his  protege  go.  Mr.  Kennedy,  who  should  have 
known  the  facts,  writes  in  reference  to  this  incident 
of  Poe's  life,  "He  was  irregular,  eccentric,  and 
querulous,  and  soon  gave  up  his  place." 1  Poe  him 
self  afterwards  confessed,  as  will  be  seen,  that  at 
Richmond  he  gave  way  at  long  intervals  to  tempta 
tion,  and  after  each  excess  was  invariably  confined 
to  his  bed  for  some  days.  The  only  contemporary 
reference  by  him  to  this  matter  occurs  in  a  business 
letter,  in  which,  although  it  was  written  six  days 
after  his  resignation  went  into  effect,  he  accepts  an 
article  from  a  West  Point  classmate  without  any 
hint  that  he  had  ceased  to  be  the  editor  of  the  mag 
azine,  except  that  he  begs  pardon  for  delay  because 
of  "  ill  health  and  a  weight  of  various  and  harass 
ing  business."  2  These  facts  all  go  to  support  the 
view  that  Mr.  White,  after  exercising  forbearance 
for  a  while,  at  last  refused  to  yield  to  Poe's  peni 
tence,  and  insisted  on  a  separation,  which,  however, 

1  Life  of  John  Pendleton  Kennedy,  p.  376. 

2  Poe  to  Allan  B.  Magruder,  January  9,  1837.     MS. 


AT  THE  SOUTH.  103 

was  not  suddenly  or  violently  effected.  The  two 
parted  friends,  and  Mr.  White  continued  through 
out  life  to  speak  of  Poe  with  great  kindness  and 
warm  feeling.  When  the  matter  was  settled  Poe 
wrote  to  his  old  friend  Wilmer,  who  was  starving  in 
Baltimore,  that  if  he  would  come  to  Richmond  the 
position  would  be  given  to  him.1  This  Wilmer  was 
unable  to  do,  and  it  fell  to  the  lot  of  some  other 
editor  to  wonder  why  Poe,  who  soon  left  the  city, 
furnished  no  more  installments  of  his  serial  narra 
tive,  "  Arthur  Gordon  Pym,"  which  had  just  been 
begun  in  the  "  Messenger." 

1  Our  Press  Gang,  p.  40. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN    PHILADELPHIA. 

ON  leaving  Richmond  Poe  made  his  way  with 
his  family  by  slow  stages  through  Baltimore  and 
Philadelphia  to  New  York,  where  he  took  up  his 
residence  at  113£  Carmine  Street.  If  he  had  gone 
there  with  the  expectation  of  obtaining  literary  em 
ployment  from  the  editor  of  the  "  New  York  Re 
view,"  he  was  soon  undeceived.  The  first  number 
of  that  magazine  had  appeared  in  March,  but  the 
financial  panic  that  then  swept  over  the  country 
made  the  enterprise  more  difficult  and  hazardous, 
and  the  second  issue  was  delayed  until  October. 
In  this  was  a  notice  by  Poe  of  Stephens'  "  Travels 
in  Arabia  Petrsea,"  prepared  at  an  earlier  time  and 
now  rewritten.  The  article,  which  was  attributed 
to  Secretary  Cass,  is  a  skillful  compilation,  by  open 
extract  and  secret  paraphrase,  from  the  book  under 
review  and  Keith's  lately  published  work  on  Proph 
ecy  ;  it  is  written  in  a  very  orthodox  vein,  but  its 
main  point  is  a  criticism  of  that  doctor's  inter 
pretation  of  a  few  verses  in  Isaiah  and  Ezekiel 
respecting  Iduma3a,  and  turns  on  a  rendering  from 
the  Hebrew  about  which  Poe  could  have  had  no 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  105 

original  knowledge.  Of  this  passage,  probably  the 
most  learned  in  appearance  that  he  ever  wrote,  Poe 
was  proud,  and  he  reprinted  it  at  every  favorable 
opportunity  throughout  his  life.  The  scholarship, 
whoever  furnished  it,  was  sound,  and  in  later  edi 
tions  of  Keith  the  objectional  paragraphs  are  omit 
ted.  So  far  as  is  known  Poe  did  not  again  con 
tribute  to  the  theological  quarterly. 

He  gave  his  attention  during  this  winter  princi 
pally  to  the  "  Narrative  of  Arthur  Gordon  Pym," 1 
which  was  announced  by  the  Harpers  in  May, 
1838,  and  was  published  at  the  end  of  July.  Tales 
of  the  sea,  under  the  influence  of  Cooper  and  Mar- 
ryatt,  were  then  at  the  height  of  their  popularity, 
and  many  grew  up  and  withered  in  a  day.  In  se 
lecting  his  subject,  however,  Poe  was  not  merely 
adopting  the  literary  fashion,  but  with  the  business 
adroitness  of  the  born  magazinist  he  was  trading  on 
the  momentary  curiosity  of  the  public,  which  was 
highly  interested  in  Antarctic  explorations  in  con- 

1  The  Narrative  of  Arthur  Gordon  Pym,  of  Nantuckct ;  compris 
ing  the  Details  of  a  Mutiny  and  Atrocious  Butchery  on  board  the 
American  Brig  Grampus,  on  her  Way  to  the  South  Seas  —  with  an 
Account  of  the  Recapture  of  the  Vessel  by  the  Survivors ;  their 
Shipwreck,  and  subsequent  Horrible  Sufferings  from  Famine ; 
their  Deliverance  by  means  of  the  British  Schooner  Jane  Gray; 
the  brief  Cruise  of  this  latter  Vessel  in  the  Antarctic  Ocean  ;  her 
Capture,  and  the  Massacre  of  her  Crew  among  a  Group  of  Islands' 
in  the  84th  parallel  of  Southern  latitude  ;  together  with  the  in 
credible  Adventures  and  Discoveries  still  further  South,  to  which 
that  distressing  Calamity  gave  rise.  12mo,  pp.198.  New  York: 
Harper  &  Brothers,  1838. 


106  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

sequence  of  the  expedition  then  fitting  out  under 
the  auspices  of  the  government.  Poe,  who  was  ac 
quainted  with  the  chief  projector,  J.  N.  Reynolds, 
had  found  some  attraction  in  the  scheme  from  the 
first.  He  had  reviewed  the  Congressional  report 
on  the  matter  and  twice  written  editorially  about 
it  while  still  editor  of  the  "  Messenger."  In  this 
way  his  attention  was  originally  drawn  to  the  sub 
ject,  and  in  course  of  time  the  new  book  of  travels 
was  published,  apparently  on  the  recommendation 
of  Mr.  Paulding.1 

The  narrative  is  circumstantial  and  might  well 
seem  plausible  to  the  unreflecting  and  credulous, 
although  there  are  a  few  tell-tale  slips,  as  where  in 
the  fifth  chapter  Augustus,  who  died  on  the  voyage, 
is  said  to  have  revealed  some  matters  to  Arthur 
only  in  later  years.  Its  credibility,  however,  is  not 
so  strange,  nor  the  realistic  art  so  ingenious,  as 
might  be  thought,  since  portions  of  it  are  either 
suggested  from  other  lately  printed  books,  such  as 
Irving's  "Astoria,"  or  directly  compiled  (the  de 
tailed  account  of  the  South  Seas  is  taken  almost 
textually  from  Morell's  "  Voyages  " 2)  by  the  easy 
process  of  close  paraphrase.  What  is  peculiar  to 
the  book  is  its  accumulation  of  blood-curdling  inci 
dents.  All  the  horrors  of  the  deep  are  brought  in 

1  Hirst. 

2  Narrative  of  Four  Voyages  to  the   South   Seas  and  Pacific, 
1822-1831.    By  Benjamin  Morell.     New  York,  1832.    Pp.  183 
et  seq. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  107 

and  huddled  up  together ;  the  entombment  of  Ar 
thur  in  the  hold,  where  he  suffers  everything  pos 
sible  to  his  situation,  from  starvation  to  an  attack 
by  a  mad  dog,  the  butchery  of  the  mutineers,  the 
sickening  riot,  the  desperate  fight  between  the  two 
factions  on  board,  poison,  shipwreck,  cannibalism 
among  friends,  make  the  staple  of  the  first  part  of 
Pyrn's  adventures ;  some  portions,  such  as  the  dis 
guise  of  Pym  as  a  putrescent  corpse,  the  ship  of 
carrion  men  with  the  feeding  gull,  or  the  details 
of  Augustus's  death,  are  so  revoltingly  horrible,  so 
merely  physically  disgusting,  that  one  can  hardly 
understand  how  even  Poe  could  endure  to  suggest 
or  develop  them.  Death  in  every  fearful  form  is 
the  constant  theme ;  even  after  the  ship  reaches  the 
Southern  regions  the  author  diversifies  his  geo 
graphical  and  botanical  extracts  only  by  the  appre 
hension  of  living  inhumation,  or  the  analysis  of  the 
sensation  of  falling  down  a  precipice,  or  wholesale 
murder.  Poe's  touch  is  noticeable  here  and  there 
throughout,  it  is  true,  but  he  does  not  show  the  dis 
tinctive  subtlety,  force,  and  fire  of  his  genius  until 
the  very  end,  and  then  only  in  a  way  to  discredit 
the  plausibility  he  had  previously  aimed  at.  When 
the  finely  imagined  isle  of  Tsalal  comes  in  view, 
the  real  tale  in  its  original  part  begins,  and  from 
that  point  the  keeping  and  gradation  of  the  nar 
rative  is  exquisite,  while  a  wonderful  interest  is 
afforded  by  the  slight  intimation  and  gradual  reve 
lation  of  the  white  country  to  the  South.  The  cav- 


108  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

erns  of  the  hieroglyphs  are  suggested  by  the  Sinaitic 
written  mountains  ;  but  after  the  voyagers  leave  the 
island  and  are  drawn  on  toward  the  pole,  the  start 
ling  scenery,  by  which  expectation  is  raised  to  the 
highest  pitch  without  loss  of  vagueness,  forms  one 
of  his  most  original  and  powerful  landscapes. 

The  volume  was  noticed  by  the  press,  but  had 
little  success  in  this  country,  and  the  author,  of 
course,  derived  no  profit  from  its  reprint  by  Put 
nam  in  England,  where  the  country  public  are  said 
to  have  been  hoaxed  by  it.  The  only  income  of 
the  family  at  this  time  seems  to  have  been  de 
rived  from  Mrs.  Clemm's  keeping  boarders,  one  of 
whom,  Mr.  William  Gowans,  a  bookseller,  declares 
that  for  the  eight  months  or  more  during  which 
he  lived  with  the  family  he  never  saw  Poe  other 
wise  than  sober,  courteous,  and  gentlemanly.1  Mrs, 
Clemm's  earnings  seem  to  have  been  no  more  than 
sufficient,  since  Poe,  when  in  the  summer  he  de 
cided  to  remove  to  Philadelphia,  was. forced  to  bor 
row  money. 

Thither  he  went  in  midsummer,  but  apparently 
not  without  encouragement,  since  in  a  letter  of 
September  4,  to  his  old  acquaintance,  Brooks,  he 
declines  to  write  an  article  upon  Irving  on  the 
ground  that  he  has  "  two  engagements  which  it 
would  be  ruinous  to  neglect."2  This  correspond 
ence  was  probably  begun  by  Poe  on  hearing  that 

1  Cowan's  Sale  Catalogue,  No.  28,  1870,  p.  11. 

2  Poe  to  Brooks,  Didier,  p.  65. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  109 

Brooks  had  bought  Fairfield's  review,  "  The  North 
American  Quarterly  Magazine  "  of  Baltimore,  and 
was  to  continue  it  as  a  monthly  under  the  name 
of  the  "American  Museum  of  Literature  and  the 
Arts."  To  these  he  had  already  contributed  "  Li- 
geia,"  composed  probably  in  the  past  summer, 
which  appeared  in  the  first  number,  in  September, 
and  was  followed  by  the  satirical  extravaganza 
"  The  Signora  Psyche  Zenobia  —  The  Scythe  of 
Time  "  ("  How  to  write  a  Blackwood  Article  "  and 
"A  Predicament")  in  December,  two  pages  of 
"  Literary  Small  Talk  "  in  January,  as  much  more 
in  February,  and  the  poem  "The  Haunted  Palace  " 
in  April ;  in  the  fall  he  had  also  sent  for  the  "  Bal 
timore  Book,"  an  annual  edited  by  Carpenter  and 
Arthur,  "  Siope  "  ("  Silence  "),  a  fine  piece  of  im 
aginative  prose  which  was  saved  from  the  waste 
basket  by  the  intercession  of  Brooks.  For  these 
he  received  very  little  pay,  —  not  more  than  five  or 
ten  dollars  an  article,  if  anything  at  all. 

The  mention  which  Poe  made  of  engagements  at 
Philadelphia  refers  probably  to  his  text-book  of 
Conchology,  upon  which  he  was  employed  during 
the  winter.  This  volume1  has  givsn  rise  to  so 

1  The  Conchologist's  First  Book:  or,  a  /System  of  Testaceous 
Malacology,  arranged  expressly  for  the  use  of  schools,  in  which 
the  animals,  according  to  Cuvier,  arc  given  with  the  shells,  a 
great  number  of  new  species  added,  and  the  whole  brought  up,  as 
accurately  as  possible,  to  the  present  condition  of  the  science.  By 
Edgar  A.  Poe.  With  illustrations  of  two  hundred  and  fifteen  shells, 
presenting  a  correct  type  of  each  genus.  Philadelphia :  published 


110  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

much  discussion  that  it  must  receive  more  notice 
than  it  would  otherwise  deserve.  It  was  charged 
in  his  lifetime  that  the  work  was  a  simple  reprint 
of  an  English  book,  Captain  Thomas  Brown's  "Con- 
chology,"  which  Poe  had  the  effrontery  to  copyright 
in  this  country  as  his  own.  He  indignantly  denied 
the  accusation,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  wrote  the  Preface  and  Introduction,  and  trans 
lated  from  Cuvier  the  accounts  of  the  animals,  &c.  All 
school-books  are  necessarily  made  in  a  similar  way."  * 

What  Poe's  understanding  was  of  the  manner  in 
which  authors  of  school-books  use  their  authorities 
may  be  seen  from  his  own  words :  — 

"  It  is  the  practice  of  quacks  to  paraphrase  page  after 
page,  rearranging  the  order  of  paragraphs,  making  a 
slight  alteration  in  point  of  fact  here  and  there,  but 
preserving  the  spirit  of  the  whole,  its  information,  eru 
dition,  etc.,  etc.,  while  everything  is  so  completely  rewrit 
ten  as  to  leave  no  room  for  a  direct  charge  of  plagiarism  ; 
and  this  is  considered  and  lauded  as  originality.  Now,  he 
who,  in  availing  himself  of  the  labors  of  his  predecessors 
(and  it  is  clear  that  all  scholars  must  avail  themselves  of 
such  labors)  —  he  who  shall  copy  verbatim  the  passages 
to  be  desired,  without  attempt  at  palming  off  their  spirit 
as  original  with  himself,  is  certainly  no  plagiarist,  even 
if  he  fail  to  make  direct  acknowledgment  of  indebted- 

for  the  author,  by  Haswell,  Barrington  &  Haswell,,  and  for  sale 
by  the  principal  booksellers  in  the  United  States.  1839.  12mo, 
pp.  156. 

1  Poe  to ,  Ingram,  i.  168. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  Ill 

ness,  —  is  unquestionably  less  of  the  plagiarist  than  the 
disingenuous  and  contemptible  quack  who  wriggles  him 
self,  as  above  explained,  into  a  reputation  for  originality, 
a  reputation  quite  out  of  place  in  a  case  of  this  kind  — 
the  public,  of  course,  never  caring  a  straw  whether  he 
be  original  or  not."  ] 

In  this  passage  Poe  wrote  from  experience ;  for  in 
the  parts  of  the  " Conchologist's  First  Book"  which 
he  claims  as  his  own  both  methods  are  pursued. 
The  first  is  illustrated  by  the  "  Introduction,"  (pp. 
3-8),  which  is  a  close  paraphrase  from  Brown's2 
volume,  the  thoughts  being  identical  in  both,  their 
sequence  similar,  and  the  authorities  quoted  the 
same.  The  second  is  illustrated  by  the  plates, 
which  are  copied  from  Brown,  and  by  the  "  Expla 
nation  of  the  Parts  of  Shells  "  (pp.  9-20),  which  is 
verbatim  from  the  same  source,  and  the  "  classifica 
tion,"  which  is  reprinted  from  "  Wyatt's  Conchol- 
°&y>"  3  a  large  and  expensive  volume  published  the 
preceding  year,  to  which  Poe  acknowledges  his  ob 
ligations  in  his  preface.  In  the  body  of  the  work, 

1  Works,  ii.  46. 

2  The  Conchologist's  Text-Book.     Embracing  the  arrangements 
of  Lamarck  and  Linnrcus,  with  a  glossary  of  technical  terms.    By 
Captain  Thomas  Brown,  Fellow,  etc.,  etc.     Illustrated  by  19  en 
gravings  on  steel.     Fourth  edition.     Glasgow  :  Archibald  Fullar- 
ton&Co.     1837. 

8  A  Manual  of  Conchology  according  to  the  System  laid  down  h) 
Lamarck,  ivith  the  Late  Improvements  of  De  Blainville.  Exemplified 
and  arranged  for  the  Use  of  Students.  By  Thomas  Wyatt,  M.  A. 
Illustrated  by  36  plates,  etc.,  etc.  New  York :  Harper  &  Broth 
ers.  1838. 


112  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

the  order,  the  nomenclature,  and  the  descriptions 
of  the  shells  are  a  paraphrase  of  Wyatt,  at  first 
close,  but  as  the  writer  grew  more  deft  at  the  phra 
seology  more  free ;  and  the  description  of  the  ani 
mals  is,  as  Poe  stated,  translated  from  Cuvier.  The 
volume  concludes  with  an  original  glossary  and  an 
index  from  Wyatt. 

These  being  the  facts  as  they  are  shown  by  a 
direct  comparison  of  all  the  books  involved,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  real  state  of  the  case 
is  given  by  Professor  John  Gr.  Anthony,  of  Har 
vard  College,  who  received  his  information  from 
Wyatt.  The  latter  said  that  as  his  work  of  the 
previous  year  proved  too  expensive  for  the  public, 
and  as  the  Harpers  refused  to  bring  it  out  in  a 
cheaper  form,  it  was  determined  to  publish  a  new 
book  which  should  be  sufficiently  different  from  the 
former  to  escape  any  suit  for  the  infringement  of 
copyright ;  and  Poe  was  selected  to  father  it.1  This 
is  supported  by  the  fact  that  Wyatt,  who  went 
about  lecturing  on  the  subject,  carried  the  volume 
with  him  for  sale.  It  was  copyrighted  in  Poe's 
name,  and  appeared  about  April,  1839,  when  it  was 
favorably  noticed  by  the  press.2  The  most  that  can 
be  said  for  Poe  is  that  he  shared  the  responsibility 
with  others,  unless,  indeed,  some  one  should  be 

1  Professor  John  G.  Anthony  to  John  Parker,  June  22,  1875. 
MS. 

2  Saturday  Evening  Chronicle  and  Mirror  of  the  Times,  Philadel 
phia,  April  27,  1839. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  113 

found  with  sufficient  hardihood  to  maintain  that 
Poe  was  ignorant  of  the  true  character  of  the  book 
to  which  he  put  his  name.  He  has  been  credited, 
too,  with  a  translation  and  digest  of  Lemmonnier's 
"  Natural  History,"  which  was  published  the  same 
spring  under  Wyatt's  name ;  but  there  is  no  indica 
tion  that  he  had  any  hand  in  this  work  except  his 
own  statement,  in  reviewing  it,  that  he  spoke  "  from 
personal  knowledge,  and  the  closest  inspection  and 
collation." l 

While  this  volume  was  in  preparation  Poe  had 
begun  to  establish  some  connection  with  the  city 
press,  perhaps  by  the  assistance  of  Wilmer,  who 
was  now  pursuing  his  checkered  journalistic  career 
in  Philadelphia,  and  on  May  8  he  published  the 
grotesque  sketch  of  "  The  Devil  in  the  Belfry,"  in 
the  "  Saturday  Evening  Chronicle."  In  one  way 
and  another  he  made  his  name  known  at  least  lo 
cally,  and  found  work  to  do,  however  humble  and 
ill  paid.  One  E.  Burke  Fisher,  an  old  contribu 
tor  to  the  "  Messenger,"  who  in  May  of  this  year 
had  ventured  with  another  sanguine  man,  Mr.  W. 
Whitney,  to  start  a  magazine,  "  The  Literary  Ex 
aminer  and  Western  Monthly  Review,"  at  Pitts- 
burg,  then  at  the  extreme  confines  of  the  American 
literary  world,  made  him  an  offer  of  four  dollars  a 
page  for  critical  reviews  ;  but  as  Fisher  published 
the  single  article  which  he  received  editorially,  and 
with  emendations  of  his  own,  it  led  only  to  Poe's 

1  Burton's  Gentleman's  Magazine,  v.  62  (July,  1839). 
8 


114  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

declaring  that  "no  greater  scamp  ever  lived,"  l  and 
congratulating  himself  that  the  magazine  died  the 
next  month  without  circulating  its  fourth  number. 
He  took  the  insult  probably  with  a  more  cheerful 
if  not  a  higher  spirit  because  he  had  already  ob 
tained  permanent  employment  and  a  fresh  oppor 
tunity  to  distinguish  himself  as  an  editor. 

In  July,  1837,  William  Evans  Burton,  an  Eng 
lish  comedian  who  was  ambitious  of  winning  liter 
ary  as  well  as  histrionic  fame  in  his  adopted  coun 
try,  had  launched  "  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  " 
in  the  very  darkest  period  of  the  financial  depres 
sion,  and  with  singular  felicity  he  had  succeeded  in 
his  venture.  At  first  this  periodical,  which  he  both 
owned  and  edited,  was  characterized  by  the  lightest 
of  stories  and  the  most  sluggish  of  poems ;  it  was 
padded  with  clippings,  translations,  and  the  usual 
et  ccetera  of  its  kind,  including  the  scrappy  reviews, 
made  principally  by  the  scissors,  that  then  went 
under  the  name  of  criticism  ;  but  Burton  devoted 
himself  to  developing  local  talent,  and  the  Phila 
delphia  editors,  novelists,  and  poetasters,  male  and 
female,  stood  by  their  patron.  The  fourth  volume 
began,  in  1839,  with  golden  promises  of  better 
printing,  elegant  engravings,  and  contributions 
from  a  long  list  of  writers,  in  which,  beside  the 
names  of  Leigh  Hunt,  Douglas  Jerrold,  and  James 
Montgomery,  whose  wares  were  presumably  stolen, 
figured  the  patronymics  of  thirty-two  native  au- 
1  Poe  to  J.  E.  Snodgrass,  July  12,  1841.  MS.  copy. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  115 

thors,  for  the  most  part  of  Philadelphia!!  or  South 
ern  extraction,  now  all  alike  impartially  forgotten. 
Poe's  friends,  Wilmer  and  Brooks,  were  among 
them,  but  he  himself  was  not  mentioned.  Once 
indeed,  in  the  previous  September,  he  had  come 
under  the  notice  of  the  magazine,  but  only  anony 
mously  as  the  author  of  "  Arthur  Gordon  Pym," 
in  which  capacity  he  had  been  flippantly  treated. 
There  is  no  evidence,  and  not  the  least  likelihood, 
that  he  wrote  anything  for  Burton  until  July,  when 
his  name  was  printed  in  conjunction  with  the  for 
mer's  as  associate  editor  of  the  periodical  whose 
variable  title  was  then  "  Burton's  Gentleman's 
Magazine  and  American  Monthly  Review." 

The  paucity  of  Poe's  early  contributions  goes  to 
confirm  this  view.  In  the  first  number  he  printed 
nothing  of  his  own  except  some  old  poems  and  a 
few  brief  book  notices  ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  year 
the  only  original  work  done  by  him  exclusively  for 
"  Burton's,"  besides  numerous  but  entirely  per 
functory  reviews,  consisted  of  one  sonnet,  conjec- 
turally  his,  though  never  afterwards  acknowledged, 
and  three  tales,  "The  Man  that  was  Used  Up," 
"The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher,"  and  "The  Con 
versation  of  Eiros  and  Charmion."  "  William 
Wilson"  was  reprinted  from  "The  Gift"  for  1840, 
and  "  Morella  "  from  the  "Tales  of  the  Grotesque 
and  Arabesque,"  l  published  at  the  end  of  the  year. 

1  Tales  of  the  Grotesque  and  Arabesque.  By  Edgar  A.  Foe.  In 
two  volumes.  Philadelphia:  Lea  &  Blan chard.  1840.  16mo. 


116  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

This  collection  of  Poe's  stories  was  in  two  vol 
umes,  and  included  all  those  thus  far  mentioned, 
and  in  addition  the  grotesque  "  Von  Jung  "  and 
"  Why  the  Little  Frenchman  wears  his  Hand  in  a 
Sling,"  making  twenty-five  in  all.  The  publishers, 
Lea  &  Blanchard,  with  whom  he  had  previously 
had  some  slight  correspondence  in  1836  in  regard 
to  some  rejected  manuscripts,  engaged,  September 
28,  1839,  to  print  an  edition  of  750  copies,  on  con 
dition  that  Poe  should  have  the  copyright  and  a 
few  copies  (afterwards  limited  to  twenty)  for  dis 
tribution  among  his  friends,  and  they  should  have 
the  profits.  When  the  volume  was  nearly  ready 
Poe  endeavored  to  obtain  better  terms,  and  in  re 
ply  received  the  following  letter,  which  may  account 
for  his  professed  indifference  at  a  later  time  regard 
ing  the  fate  of  the  tales  :  — 

November  20,  1839. 

EDGAR  A.  POE,  —  We  have  your  note  of  to-day. 
The  copyright  of  the  Tales  would  be  of  no  value  to 
us  ;  when  we  undertook  their  publication,  it  was  solely 

The  work  was  copyrighted  in  1839,  and  was  dedicated  to  Colonel 
William  Dray  ton.  Vol.  i.  (pp.  243)  contained  a  preface  and  four 
teen  tales,  that  is,  Morella,  Lionizing,  William  Wilson,  The  Man 
that  was  Used  Up,  The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher,  The  Due  De 
L'Omelette,  MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle,  Bon-Bon,  Shadow,  The  Devil 
in  the  Belfry,  Ligeia,  King  Pest,  The  Signora  Zenobia  (How  to 
write  a  Blackwood  Article),  The  Scythe  of  Time  (A  Predica 
ment).  Vol.  ii.  (pp.  228)  contained Epimanes,  Siope,  Hans  Pfaall, 
A  Tale  of  Jerusalem,  Von  Jung,  Loss  of  Breath,  Metzengerstein, 
Berenice,  Why  the  Little  Frenchman  wears  his  Hand  in  a  Sling, 
The  Conversation  of  Eiros  and  Charmion.  Appendix. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  117 

to  oblige  you  and  not  with  any  view  to  profit,  and  on 
this  ground  it  was  urged  by  you.  We  should  not  there 
fore  be  now  called  upon  or  expected  to  purchase  the 
copyright  when  we  have  no  expectation  of  realizing  the 
Capital  placed  in  the  volumes.  If  the  offer  to  publish 
was  now  before  us  we  should  certainly  decline  it,  and 
would  feel  obliged  if  you  knew  and  would  urge  some  one 
to  relieve  us  from  the  publication  at  cost,  or  even  at  a 
small  abatement. 1 

The  volumes  appeared  early  in  December,  and 
were  widely  and  favorably  noticed  by  the  city  press 
and  in  New  York.  The  sale,  however,  was  not 
large,  and  after  Poe's  own  copies  were  dispatched 
he  broke  off  intercourse  with  the  firm  for  some  time. 

Three  of  these  reprinted  stories  deserve  some 
further  notice.  Two  of  them,  "  Ligeia  "  and  "  The 
Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher,"  mark  the  highest 
reach  of  the  romantic  element  in  Poe's  genius,  and 
for  the  first  time  exhibit  his  artistic  powers  in  full 
development  and  under  easy  command.  He  had  . 
matured  in  the  six  years  since  he  penned  his  first 
story  (he  was  now  thirty),  but  his  growth  had  been 
within  singularly  well-defined  limits  ;  his  mind  pur 
sued  the  strong  attraction  that  fascinated  him  in 
that  haunted  borderland  upon  the  verge  but  not 
beyond  the  sphere  of  credibility,  as  the  magnet 
obeys  the  pole ;  but  this  absorption  of  his  imagina 
tion  in  the  preternatural  was  not  more  extraordi 
nary  than  the  monotony  of  the  themes  that  exercised 
1  Letter-Book  of  Lea  &  Blaiichard. 


118  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

it.  In  plot  "Ligeia"  is  the  same  as  "Morella," 
and  "The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher"  the  same 
as  "  Berenice ;  "  in  each  a  single  dramatic  event 
had  gathered  about  it  in  Poe's  mind  rich  accretions 
of  fancy,  thought,  and  suggestiveness,  but  practi- 
\  cally  there  was  no  change  except  in  treatment,  —  in 
the  art  by  which  the  effect  originally  sought  was 
secured  more  finely,  and  in  an  intenser  and  more 
elemental  form.  In  all  his  best  work,  however, 
Poe  not  only  told  a  story,  he  also  developed  an 
idea,  and  his  later  renderings  of  early  conceptions 
are  markedly  characterized  by  an  increase  in  this 
suggested,  or,  as  he  designated  it,  mystic,  meaning. 
In  "  Ligeia,"  which  he  regarded  as  his  finest  tale, 
he  re-wrote  "  Morella,"  but  for  much  of  its  peculiar 
power  he  went  back  to  the  sources  of  his  youngest 
inspiration.  In  "  Al  Aaraaf  "  he  had  framed  out 
of  the  breath  of  the  night- wind  and  the  idea  of  the 
harmony  of  universal  nature  a  fairy  creature,  — 
"  Ligeia,  Ligeia,  my  beautiful  one !  " 

Now  by  a  finer  touch  he  incarnated  the  motions  of 
the  breeze  and  the  musical  voices  of  nature  in  the 
form  of  a  woman :  but  the  Lady  Ligeia  has  still  no 
human  quality ;  her  aspirations,  her  thoughts  and 
capabilities,  are  those  of  a  spirit ;  the  very  beam  and 
glitter  and  silence  of  her  ineffable  eyes  belong  to 
the  visionary  world.  She  is,  in  fact,  the  maiden 
of  Poe's  dream,  the  Eidolon  he  served,  the  air- 
woven  divinity  in  which  he  believed ;  for  he  had 
the  true  myth-making  faculty,  the  power  to  make 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  119 

his  senses  aver  what  his  imagination  perceived.  In 
revealing  through  "Ligeia"  the  awful  might  of 
the  soul  in  the  victory  of  its  will  over  death  and  in 
the  eternity  of  its  love,  Poe  worked  in  the  very 
element  of  his  reverie,  in  the  liberty  of  a  world  as 
as  he  would  have  it.  Upon  this  story  he  lavished 
all  his  poetic,  inventive,  and  literary  skill,  and  at 
last  perfected  an  exquisitely  conceived  work,  and 
made  it,  within  its  own  laws,  as  faultless  as  hu 
manity  can  fashion.  He  did  not  once  lapse  into 
the  crude  or  repulsive;  he  blended  the  material 
elements  of  the  legend,  the  mere  circumstance  and 
decoration  of  the  scene,  like  married  notes  of  a 
sensuous  accompaniment,  and  modulated  them  with 
minute  and  delicate  care  to  chime  with  the  weird 
suggestions  of  the  things  above  nature,  until  all 
unites  and  vanishes  in  an  impression  on  the  spirit, 
—  in  an  intimation  of  the  dark  possibilities  that  lie 
hidden  in  the  eternal  secret,  adumbrated  in  the 
startling  event  when  the  raven  hair  of  Ligeia 
streams  down  beneath  the  serpentine  flames  of  the 
writhing  censer,  and  her  eyes  open  full  on  her  lost 
lover,  as  they  stand  embosomed  within  the  wind- 
swayed  golden  hangings  whereon  the  ghastly  and 
sable  phantasmagoria  keeps  up  its  antic  and  cease 
less  dance.  Without  striving  to  unwind  the  mazes 
of  the  spell  that  confuses  the  reader  into  momentary 
belief  in  the  incredible,  one  cannot  but  note  the 
marvelous  certainty  with  which  Poe  passes  from 
vaguely  suggestive  and  slightly  unusual  mutations 


120  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

of  the  senses,  and  advances  by  imperceptible  grada 
tions  to  accustom  the  mind  to  increasingly  strange 
and  complex  changes,  incessant  and  seemingly  law 
less  variations,  until  one  is  fairly  bewildered  into 
accepting  the  final  impossible  transformation  of 
the  immortal  into  mortality  as  merely  the  final 
phase  of  the  restless  movement  in  all,  and  after 
wards,  on  returning  to  the  solid  world,  can  scarcely 
tell  where  he  overstepped  the  boundaries  of  reality. 
As  in  "  Ligeia  "  the  idea  of  change  is  elaborated, 
so  in  "  The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher  "  the  in 
tellectual  theme  is  fear.  For  the  purposes  of  this 
story  Poe  used  again  the  plot  of  "  Berenice,"  but 
so  purified  and  developed  (in  its  accidents  as  to  be 
hardly  recognizable.  Not  a  few  would  rank  this 
tale  more  high  than  "  Ligeia ; "  for,  if  that  be 
more  distinguished  by  ideality,  this  is  more  excel 
lent  in  the  second  virtue  in  Poe's  scale,  unity  of 
design.  In  artistic  construction,  it  does  not  come 
short  of  absolute  perfection.  The  adaptation  of  the 
related  parts  and  their  union  in  the  total  effect  are 
a  triumph  of  literary  craft ;  the  intricate  details,  as 
it  were  mellowing  and  reflecting  one  ground  tone, 
have  the  definiteness  and  precision  of  inlaid  mo 
saic,  or,  like  premonitions  and  echoes  of  the  theme 
in  music,  they  are  so  exactly  calculated  as  to  secure 
their  end  with  the  certainty  of  harmonic  law  itself. 
The  sombre  landscape  whose  hues  Poe  alone  knew 
the  secret  of ;  the  subtle  yet  not  overwrought  sym 
pathy  between  the  mansion  and  the  race  that  had 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  121 

reared  it ;  the  looks,  traits,  and  pursuits  of  Usher,  its 
representative ;  and  the  at  first  scarce-felt  presence 
of  Madeline,  his  worn  sister,  —  all  is  like  a  narrow 
ing  and  ever-intensifying  force  drawing  in  to  some 
unknown  point ;  and  when  this  is  reached,  in  the 
bright  copper-sheathed  vault  in  which  Madeline  is 
entombed,  and  the  mind,  after  that  midnight  scene, 
expands  and  breathes  freer  air,  a  hundred  obscure 
intimations,  each  slight  in  itself,  startle  and  en 
chain  it,  until,  slowly  as  obscurity  takes  shape  in  a 
glimmer  of  light,  Usher's  dread  discloses  itself  in 
its  concrete  and  fearful  fulfillment,  and  at  once, 
by  the  brief  and  sudden  stroke  of  death,  house, 
race,  and  all  sink  into  the  black  tarn  where  its 
glassy  image  had  so  long  built  a  shadowy  reality. 

Where  every  syllable  tells,  it  is  folly  to  attempt 
an  analysis  of  the  workmanship.  By  way  of  illus 
tration,  however,  it  may  be  well  to  remark  on  the 
mode  in  which  the  mind  is  prepared  for  the  coming 
of  Madeline,  and  made  almost  to  share  Usher's 
diseased  acuteness  of  hearing,  by  the  legendary  tale, 
with  its  powerful  and  exclusive  appeal  to  the 
senses;  or  to  observe  such  a  slight  touch  as  the 
small  picture  painted  by  Usher,  —  the  interior  of  a 
long  rectangular  tunnel,  deep  in  the  earth,  with 
low,  smooth  walls,  closed  and  without  a  torch,  yet 
flooded  with  intense  rays,  —  so  clearly  prophetic  of 
Madeline's  vault,  gleaming  with  metallic  lustre,  of 
which,  too,  some  reminiscence  still  survives  in  the 
mind  when  the  same  unnatural  luminous  exhala- 


122  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

tion  glows  from  the  under-surface  of  the  storm 
clouds  that  press  upon  the  turrets  of  the  trem 
bling  house  before  its  fall.  Never  has  the  impres 
sion  of  total  destruction,  of  absolute  and  irremedi 
able  ruin,  been  more  strongly  given ;  had  the  man 
sion  remained,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  extinction  of 
Usher  had  been  incomplete.  Doom  rests  upon  all 
things  within  the  shadow  of  those  walls;  it  is  felt 
to  be  impending  ;  and  therefore,  Poe,  identifying 
himself  with  his  reader,  places  the  sure  seal  of  truth 
on  the  illusion  as  he  exclaims,  "  From  that  cham 
ber  and  from  that  mansion  I  fled  aghast."  The 
mind  is  already  upon  the  recoil  as  it  turns  to  view 
the  accomplished  fatality. 

These  two  tales  deserve  more  attention  in  that 
they  are  in  Poe's  prose  what  "  The  Raven  "  and 
"  Ulalume  "  are  in  his  poetry,  the  richest  of  his  im 
aginative  work.  On  them  he  expended  his  spirit. 
There  had  been  no  such  art  before  in  America ; 
but,  like  Hawthorne,  he  had  to  wait  for  any  ade 
quate  recognition  of  his  genius.  His  work  in  this 
kind  was  done  ;  it  could  be  left,  safe  as  the  dia 
mond. 

In  "  William  Wilson  "  he  opened  a  new  vein. 
It  is  the  first  of  his  studies  of  the  springs  of  terror 
in  conscience.  The  idea  itself  which  is  developed 
in  the  story,  the  conception  of  a  double  dogging 
one's  steps  and  thwarting  one's  evil  designs,  is  an 
old  fancy1  of  men  that  has  taken  many  shapes 

1  It  has  been  suggested  (Ingram  and  Stoddard)  that  this  tale 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  123 

since  Zoroaster  saw  his  phantom  in  the  garden. 
The  psychological  element  in  it  is  less  insisted  on 
than  is  usual  in  Poe's  finest  work,  and  it  conse 
quently  lacks  the  intensity  and  spiritual  power  of 
his  later  sketches  on  similar  subjects.  It  has  a 
peculiar  interest  as  containing  an  autobiographical 
account  of  his  school-days  in  England,  but  in  his 
own  life  there  was  little  to  serve  as  a  basis  for 
other  portions  of  the  narrative. 

Poe  had  already  formed  the  habit,  which  no  au 
thor  ever  practiced  so  flagrantly,  of  republishing 
old  material  slightly  if  at  all  revised.  With  the 
exception  of  the  fine  sonnet  entitled  "  Silence,"  all 
his  poetic  contributions  to  "  Burton's  "  were  of  this 
sort ;  the  1829  edition  of  his  poems  afforded  "  Spir 
its  of  the  Dead,"1  "Fairyland,"2  and  "To  the 

River ,"  2  and  the  "Messenger"  yielded  "To 

lanthe  in  Heaven  "   and  "  To  ,"  l  the  stanzas 

originally  addressed  to  Eliza  White.  At  the  be 
ginning  of  the  New  Year  he  applied  the  same  con- 
was  from  a  rare  drama  by  Calderon,  El.  Embozado  or  El  Capotado, 
mentioned  by  Medwin  to  Irving,  and  vainly  sought  for  by  the  latter 
in  Spanish  libraries.  (Irving's  Life  and  Letters,  ii.  232;  iv.  70-72.) 
Medwin  undoubtedly  had  the  plot  from  Shelley.  The  reference  is 
plainly  to  EL  Purgatorio  de  San  Patricia,  a  favorite  of  Shelley's 
(from  which  he  took  a  passage  of  The  Cenci),  in  which  Un  Hom- 
bre  Embozado  is  a  character.  Poe  read  Medwin's  Shelley  ;  but  it 
is  extremely  unlikely  that  he  ever  saw  the  drama  in  question,  nor 
is  there  any  reason  to  seek  so  far  for  his  knowledge  of  a  supersti 
tious  idea  common  to  literature. 

1  Unsigned. 

2  Signed  "  P." 


124  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

venient  aid  to  the  department  of  criticism,  which 
had  hitherto  been  very  feebly  conducted,  although 
he  had  found  opportunity  to  reproach  Longfellow 
for  using  so  crudely,  in  "  Hyperion,"  material  ca 
pable  of  being  highly  wrought  by  art,  and  had 
praised  Fouqud's  "  Undine "  with  delightful  ap 
preciation.  In  the  January  issue  Moore's  "  Alci- 
phron"  drew  from  him  one  of  those  partial  reviews 
that  seem  to  invalidate  the  usefulness  of  any  criti 
cism  of  contemporaries,  and  in  piecing  it  out  he 
availed  himself  of  his  former  remarks  on  Drake 
and  Marvell  in  the  "  Messenger,"  but  openly  under 
the  form  of  self-quotation.  In  a  mediocre  notice 
of  Bryant,  somewhat  later,  he  again  had  recourse 
to  the  old  files,  and  in  other  insignificant  criticisms 
he  is  found  airing  the  bastard  Hebrew  learning  of 
his  article  in  the  "New  York  Review,"  and  even 
enumerating  once  more  the  storehouses  of  literary 
odds  and  ends,  including  the  mythical  memoirs  of 
"  Suard  and  Andre*."  The  most  noticeable  arti 
cle  is  that  review  of  Longfellow's  "  Voices  of  the 
Night,"  in  which  he  first  urged  against  the  New 
England  poet  the  charge  of  plagiarism.  He  in 
stanced  in  particular  Tennyson's  "The  Death  of 
the  Old  Year  "  as  the  source  of  "  The  Midnight 
Mass  for  the  Dying  Year."  This  he  characterized 
as  belonging  "to  the  most  barbarous  class  of  lit 
erary  robbery ;  that  class  in  which,  while  the  words 
of  the  wronged  author  are  avoided,  his  most  intan 
gible,  and  therefore  his  least  defensible  and  least 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  125 

reclaimable  property,  is  purloined." 1  In  other 
ways  than  such  book-reviewing  as  this  Poe's  mind 
was  also  unprofitably  employed.  A  satirical  sketch, 
"  Peter  Pendulum,  the  Business  Man,"  and  the  first 
of  his  articles  respecting  decoration,  "  The  Philos 
ophy  of  Furniture,"  were  his  only  signed  contribu 
tions,  for  the  mere  plate  or  sporting  articles  may 
be  neglected. 

In  each  number,  however,  from  January  to  June 
appeared  an  installment  of  his  anonymous  work, 
"  The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman,  Being  an  Ac 
count  of  the  First  Passage  across  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains  of  North  America  ever  achieved  by  Civilized 
Man."  This  narrative  is  constructed,  like  that  of 
"  Arthur  Gordon  Pym,"  so  as  to  win  credence  by  cir 
cumstantial  detail  and  an  affected  air  of  plainness, 
and  Poe  would  probably  have  concluded  it  similarly 
with  weird  marvels  of  nature.  Julius  Rodman  was 
the  son  of  an  Englishman  who  had  settled  in  Ken 
tucky.  Being  left  alone  by  his  father's  death,  he 
started  in  his  twenty-sixth  year  professedly  on  a 
trapping  expedition  up  the  Missouri  River,  and 
pushing  on  for  mere  adventure  crossed  the  Rocky 
Mountains  in  northern  regions  in  1792,  but  on 
returning  to  Virginia,  after  three  years'  absence, 
never  conversed  respecting  his  journey,  and  took 
great  pains  to  secrete  his  diary.  Unfortunately, 
although  the  characters  of  the  exploring  party  are 
much  more  carefully  selected  than  was  the  case  in 
1  Burton's  Gentleman's  Magazine,  \\.  102-103  (February,  1840). 


126  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  Arthur  Gordon  Pym,"  Poe  conducted  the  travelers 
only  to  the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri.  The  de 
scription  of  the  trip,  in  which  he  followed  very 
closely  the  obvious  authorities,  such  as  Sir  Alex 
ander  Mackenzie,  Lewis  and  Clarke,  Pike,  and 
Irving,  is  enlivened  only  by  an  attack  on  the  Sioux, 
the  sight  of  a  beaver  dam,  and  a  hand-to-hand  con 
flict  with  a  bear.  As  before,  too,  he  was  led  to 
his  subject  by  the  public  interest  which  was  now 
especially  directed  to  the  exploration  of  the  West. 
The  work  as  a  whole  bears  no  relation  to  his  gen 
ius,  except  in  a  single  passage  which  contains  a  faint 
suggestion  of  the  Valley  of  the  Many-Colored  Grass 
in  "Eleonora." 

With  the  June  installment  of  the  "  Journal " 
Poe's  contributions  to  the  magazine  ceased,  and  at 
the  same  time  his  engagement  with  Burton  ab 
ruptly  terminated.  There  was  evidently  a  serious 
quarrel  between  the  two  editors,  but  the  exact  truth 
regarding  it  can  only  be  inferred.  Poe  asserted 
that  Burton  had  acted  dishonorably  in  advertising 
prizes  for  contributions  which  he  never  intended  to 
pay,  and  that  this  was  the  ground  of  his  own  resig 
nation;  Burton,  on  his  side,  circulated  scandalous 
reports  in  regard  to  Poe's  habits  and  actions,  and 
described  these  as  the  cause  of  the  trouble.  It  will 
be  best  to  confine  attention  to  the  documentary  evi 
dence,  an  important  part  of  which  is  contained  in 
Poe's  letters  to  Dr.  J.  E.  Snodgrass,  of  Baltimore, 
who  had  been  Brooks's  associate  on  the  "  Museum," 


JN  PHILADELPHIA.  127 

and  was  afterwards  known  as  an  early  abolitionist 
in  that  city.  This  correspondence,  which  began  in 
1839  with  a  request  from  Poe  that  his  friend 
would  see  that  a  puff  of  himself  in  a  St.  Louis 
paper  was  reprinted  and  the  last  numbers  of  "  Bur 
ton's  "  noticed  by  the  Baltimore  press,  extends  over 
three  years,  and  relates  mainly  to  the  minor  literary 
affairs  of  the  two,  but  incidentally  some  light  is 
thrown  on  more  important  matters,  and  among 
them  on  this  disagreement  between  Poe  and  Bur 
ton.  In  reply  to  a  question  regarding  the  prizes 
offered  by  Burton,  Poe  writes,  December  19,  1839, 
as  follows  :  — 

"Touching  the  Premiums.  The  Advertisement  re 
specting  them  was  written  by  Mr.  Burton,  and  is  not  I 
think  as  explicit  as  might  [be].  I  can  give  you  no  in 
formation  about  their  designation  furth]er  than  is  shown 
in  the  advertisement  itself.  The  tr[uth  is,]  I  object,  in 
toto,  to  the  whole  scheme  —  but  merely  follow[ed  in] 
Mr.  B.'s  wake  upon  such  matters  of  business."  1 

Dr.  Snodgrass  sent  on  a  contribution,  but  had 
difficulty  in  recovering  possession  of  it.  Just  after 
the  quarrel,  Poe  wrote  to  him  again,  in  answer  to 
what  seems  to  have  been  a  pressing  letter,  as  fol 
lows  :  — 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrnss,  December  19,  1839.  This,  and  all  subse 
quent  quotations  from  the  Snodgrass  correspondence  (partly  pub 
lished  in  the  New  York  Herald  March  27,  1881)  not  otherwise 
credited,  is  from  a  very  careful  MS.  copy  of  the  originals,  made 
some  years  since  by  I3r.  William  Hand  Browne  of  Baltimore, 
who  annotates  on  this  passage,  "  MS.  burnt  and  broken.  Restora 
tions  in  brackets." 


128  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  Touching  your  Essay,  Burton  not  only  lies,  but  de 
liberately  and  wilfully  lies  ;  for  the  last  time  but  one 
that  I  saw  him  I  called  his  attention  to  the  MS.  which 
was  then  at  the  top  of  a  pile  of  other  MSS.  sent  for  pre 
miums,  in  a  drawer  of  the  office  desk.  The  last  day  I 
was  in  the  office  I  saw  the  Essay  in  the  same  position, 
and  am  perfectly  sure  it  is  there  still.  You  know  it  is  a 
peculiar  looking  MS.  and  I  could  not  mistake  it.  In 
saying  it  was  not  in  his  possession  his  sole  design  was  to 
vex  you,  and  through  you  myself.  T^ere  I  in  your 
place  I  would  take  some  summary  method  of  dealing 
with  the  scoundrel,  whose  infamous  line  of  conduct  in 
regard  to  this  whole  Premium  scheme  merits,  and  shall 
receive  exposure.  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  it  was 
never  his  intention  to  pay  one  dollar  of  the  money  of 
fered  ;  and  indeed  his  plain  intimations  to  that  effect, 
made  to  me  personally  and  directly,  were  the  imme 
diate  reason  of  my  cutting  the  connexion  so  abruptly  as  I 
did.  If  you  could,  in  any  way,  spare  the  time  to  come 
on  to  Philadelphia,  I  think  I  could  put  you  in  the  way 
of  detecting  this  villain  in  his  rascality.  I  would  go 
down  with  you  to  the  office,  open  the  drawer  in  his  pres 
ence,  and  take  the  MS.  from  beneath  his  very  nose.  I 
think  this  would  be  a  good  deed  done,  and  would  act  as 
a  caution  to  such  literary  swindlers  in  future.  What 
think  you  of  this  plan  ?  Will  you  come  on  ?  Write  im 
mediately  —  in  reply."  1 

In  support  of  Burton's  charge  of  Poe's  habits  of 
drinking  at  this  time,  nothing  has  been  brought 
forward  except  an  undated  letter  from  himself  to 
Poe:  — 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  June  1 7,  1 840.     MS.  copy. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  129 

"  I  am  sorry  you  have  thought  it  necessary  to  send 
me  such  a  letter.  Your  troubles  have  given  a  morbid 
tone  to  your  feelings  which  it  is  your  duty  to  discourage. 
I  myself  have  been  as  severely  handled  by  the  world  as 
you  can  possibly  have  been,  but  my  sufferings  have  not 
tinged  my  mind  with  melancholy,  nor  jaundiced  my 
views  of  society.  You  must  rouse  your  energies,  and  if 
care  assail  you,  conquer  it.  I  will  gladly  overlook  the 
past.  I  hope  you  will  as  easily  fulfill  your  pledges  for 
the  future.  We  shall  agree  very  well,  though  I  cannot 
permit  the  magazine  to  be  made  a  vehicle  for  that  sort 
of  severity  which  you  think  *  so  successful  with  the  mob.' 
I  am  truly  much  less  anxious  about  making  a  monthly 
'  sensation  '  than  I  am  upon  the  point  of  fairness.  You 
must,  my  dear  sir,  get  rid  of  your  avowed  ill-feelings 
toward  your  brother  authors.  You  see  I  speak  plainly  ; 
I  cannot  do  otherwise  upon  such  a  subject.  You  say  the 
people  love  havoc.  I  think  they  love  justice.  I  think 
you  yourself  would  not  have  written  the  article  on  Dawes, 
in  a  more  healthy  state  of  mind.  I  am  not  trammelled 
by  any  vulgar  consideration  of  expediency ;  I  would 
rather  lose  money  than  by  such  undue  severity  wound  the 
feelings  of  a  kind-hearted  and  honorable  man.  And  I 
am  satisfied  that  Dawes  has  something  of  the  true  fire 
in  him.  I  regretted  your  word-catching  spirit.  But  I 
wander  from  my  design.  I  accept  your  proposition  to  re 
commence  your  interrupted  avocations  upon  the  Maga. 
Let  us  meet  as  if  we  had  not  exchanged  letters.  Use 
more  exercise,  write  when  feelings  prompt,  and  bu  as 


sured  of  my  friendship.     You  will  soon  regain  a  healthy 


activity  of  mind,  and  laugh  at  your  past  vagaries."  l 
1  Griswold,  xxxii. 


130  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

There  is  in  this  letter  no  statement  nor  even  any 
implication  that  the  cause  of  Poe's  temporary  resig 
nation,  of  which  we  know  only  from  this  source,  was 
drunkenness.  All  that  is  said  would  be  more  ob 
viously  and  naturally  explained,  both  in  substance 
and  tone,  on  the  supposition  that  when  Burton  re 
fused  to  print  the  censorious  criticism  on  Rufus 
Dawes  Poe  gave  way  to  his  anger,  perhaps  used 
high  words,  and  in  a  moment  of  pique  left  his  sit 
uation  ;  on  returning  to  himself,  and  under  the 
strong  pressure  of  poverty  at  home,  it  is  not  un 
likely  that  he  surprised  Burton  by  one  of  his  self- 
humiliating  and  bitter  letters,  and  that  Burton 
wrote  to  him  the  foregoing  kindly  reply.  This  sup 
position  explains  everything  that  is  said,  whereas 
the  assumption  that  Poe  had  been  on  a  drunken 
spree  is  not  required  by  any  phrase  or  sentence, 
and  would  fail  to  explain  why  the  entire  letter 
deals  with  the  subject  of  Poe's  criticism  and  the 
temperament  out  of  which  it  sprang. 

Independently  of  this  letter,  however,  it  is  plain 
that  Burton  did  charge  Poe  with  the  vicious  habit 
which  he  would  find  most  difficulty  in  denying. 
Dr.  Snodgrass  heard  the  story  at  second  hand,  and 
nearly  nine  months  later  wrote  about  it  to  Poe, 
who  was  then  editor  of  "  Graham's."  The  reply  is 
at  length  and  explicit :  — 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  1,  1841. 

MY  DEAR  SNODGRASS  :  —  I  fear  you  have  been  think 
ing  it  was  not  my  design  to  answer  your  kind  letter  at 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  131 

all.  It  is  now  April  Fool's  Day,  and  yours  is  dated 
March  8th  ;  but  believe  me,  although,  for  good  reason, 
I  may  occasionally  postpone  my  reply  to  your  favors,  I 
am  never  in  danger  of  forgetting  them. 

In  regard  to  Burton.  I  feel  indebted  to  you  for  the 
kind  interest  you  express  ;  but  scarcely  know  how  to  re 
ply.  My  situation  is  embarrassing.  It  is  impossible,  as 
you  say,  to  notice  a  buffoon  and  a  felon,  as  one  gentle 
man  would  notice  another.  The  law,  then,  is  my  only 
resource.  Now,  if  the  truth  of  a  scandal  could  be  ad 
mitted  in  justification  —  I  mean  of  what  the  law  terms 
a  scandal  —  I  would  have  matters  all  my  own  way.  I 
would  institute  a  suit,  forthwith,  for  his  personal  defa 
mation  of  myself.  He  would  be  unable  to  prove  the 
truth  of  his  allegations.  I  could  prove  their  falsity  and 
their  malicious  intent  by  witnesses  who,  seeing  me  at  all 
hours  of  every  day,  would  have  the  best  right  to  speak  — 
I  mean  Burton's  own  clerk,  Morrell,  and  the  compositors 
of  the  printing  office.  In  fact,  I  could  prove  the  scan 
dal  almost  by  acclamation.  I  should  obtain  damages. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  never  been  scrupulous  in 
regard  to  what  I  have  said  of  him.  I  have  always  told 
him  to  his  face,  and  everybody  else,  that  I  looked  upon 
him  as  a  blackguard  and  a  villain.  This  is  notorious. 
He  would  meet  me  with  a  cross  action.  The  truth  of 
the  allegation  —  which  I  could  [as]  easily  prove  as  he 
would  find  it  difficult  to  prove  the  truth  of  his  own  re 
specting  me  —  would  not  avail  me.  The  law  will  not 
admit,  as  justification  of  my  calling  Billy  Burton  a  scoun 
drel,  that  Billy  Burton  is  really  such.  What  then  can 
I  do  ?  If  I  sue,  he  sues  :  you  see  how  it  is. 


132  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

At  the  same  time  —  as  I  may,  after  further  reflection, 
be  induced  to  sue,  I  would  take  it  as  an  act  of  kindness 
—  not  to  say  justice  —  on  your  part,  if  you  would  see 
the  gentleman  of  whom  you  spoke,  and  ascertain  with 
accuracy  all  that  may  legally  avail  .me  ;  that  is  to  say, 
what  and  when  were  the  words  used,  and  whether  your 
friend  would  be  willing  for  your  sake,  for  my  sake,  and 
for  the  sake  of  truth,  to  give  evidence  if  called  upon. 
Will  you  do  this  for  me  ? 

So  far  for  the  matter  inasmuch  as  it  concerns  Burton. 
I  have  now  to  thank  you  for  your  defence  of  myself,  as 
stated.  You  are  a  physician,  and  I  presume  no  physi 
cian  can  have  difficulty  in  detecting  the  drunkard  at  a 
glance.  You  are,  moreover,  a  literary  man,  well  read 
in  morals.  You  will  never  be  brought  to  believe  that  I 
could  write  what  I  daily  write,  as  I  write  it,  were  I  as 
this  villain  would  induce  those  who  know  me  not,  to  be 
lieve.  In  fine,  I  pledge  you,  before  God,  th'e  solemn 
word  of  a  gentleman,  that  I  am  temperate  even  to  rigor. 
From  the  hour  in  which  I  first  saw  this  basest  of  ca 
lumniators  to  the  hour  in  which  I  retired  from  his  office 
in  uncontrollable  disgust  at  his  chicanery,  arrogance,  ig 
norance  and  brutality,  nothing  stronger  than  water  ever 
passed  my  lips. 

It  is,  however,  due  to  candor  that  I  inform  you  upon 
what  foundation  he  has  erected  his  slanders.  At  no 
period  of  my  life  was  I  ever  what  men  call  intemperate. 
I  never  was  in  the  habit  of  intoxication.  I  never  drunk 
drams,  &c.  But,  for  a  brief  period,  while  I  resided  in 
Richmond,  and  edited  the  Messenger  I  certainly  did 
give  way,  at  long  intervals,  to  the  temptation  held  out 
on  all  sides  by  the  spirit  of  Southern  conviviality.  My 
sensitive  temperament  could  not  stand  an  excitement 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  133 

which  was  an  every  day  matter  to  my  companions.  In 
short,  it  sometimes  happened  that  I  was  completely  in 
toxicated.  For  some  days  after  each  excess  I  was  in 
variably  confined  to  bed.  But  it  is  now  quite  four  years 
since  I  have  abandoned  every  kind  of  alcoholic  drink 
—  four  years,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  deviation, 
which  occurred  shortly  after  my  leaving  Burton,  and 
when  I  was  induced  to  resort  to  the  occasional  use  of 
cider,  with  the  hope  of  relieving  a  nervous  attack. 

You  will  thus  see,  frankly  stated,  the  whole  amount 
of  my  sin.  You  will  also  see  the  blackness  of  that 
heart  which  could  revive  a  slander  of  this  nature. 
Neither  can  you  fail  to  perceive  how  desperate  the  ma 
lignity  of  the  slanderer  must  be  —  how  resolute  he  must 
be  to  slander,  and  how  slight  the  grounds  upon  which 
he  would  build  up  a  defamation  —  since  he  can  find 
nothing  better  with  which  to  charge  me  than  an  accusa 
tion  which  can  be  disproved  by  each  and  every  man 
with  whom  I  am  in  the  habit  of  daily  intercourse. 

I  have  now  only  to  repeat  to  you,  in  general,  my  sol 
emn  assurance  that  my  habits  are  as  far  removed  from 
intemperance  as  the  day  from  the  night.  My  sole  drink 
is  water. 

Will  you  do  me  the  kindness  to  repeat  this  assurance 
to  such  of  your  own  friends  as  happen  to  speak  of  me 
in  your  hearing  ? 

I  feel  that  nothing  more  is  requisite,  and  you  will 
agree  with  me  upon  reflection. 

Hoping  soon  to  hear  from  you,  I  am, 

Yours  most  cordially, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

DR.  J.  E.  SNODGRASS. 

1  Foe  to  Snodgrass,  Baltimore  American,  April,  1881. 


134  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Unfortunately,  this  disclaimer  is  traversed  by  a 
letter  from  Mr.  C.  W.  Alexander,  the  publisher  of 
the  magazine,  to  Mr.  T.  C.  Clarke,  of  Philadel 
phia.  In  answer  to  the  question  whether  Poe's  al 
leged  irregularities  at  that  time  were  such  as  to 
interfere  with  his  work,  Mr.  Alexander  writes  :  — 

"  The  absence  of  the  principal  editor  on  professional 
duties  left  the  matter  frequently  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Poe,  whose  unfortunate  failing  may  have  occasioned 
some  disappointment  in  the  preparation  of  a  particular 
article  expected  from  him,  but  never  interfering  with  the 
regular  publication  of  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  as 
its  monthly  issue  was  never  interrupted  upon  any  occa 
sion,  either  from  Mr.  Poe's  deficiency,  or  from  any  other 
cause,  during  my  publication  of  it,  embracing  the  whole 
time  of  Mr.  Poe's  connection  with  it.  That  Mr.  Poe 
.had  faults  seriously  detrimental  to  his  own  interests, 
none,  of  course,  will  deny.  They  were,  unfortunately, 
too  well  known  in  the  literary  circles  of  Philadelphia, 
were  there  any  disposition  to  conceal  them.  But  he 
alone  was  the  sufferer,  and  not  those  who  received  the 
benefit  of  his  preeminent  talents,  however  irregular  his 
habits  or  uncertain  his  contributions  may  occasionally 
have  been."  * 

It  is  possible  that  Mr.  Alexander,  writing  ten 
years  after  the  event,  may  have  confused  his  recol 
lections  and  antedated  the  intemperance  of  Poe, 
which  became  frequent  and  notorious  during  the 
next  year.  Were  it  not  for  this  letter  there  would 
i  Alexander  to  Clarke,  October  20,  1850,  Gill,  p.  97. 


7^  PHILADELPHIA.  135 

be  no  direct  evidence  that  Poe  was  not,  as  lie 
claimed  to  be,  a  sober  man  from  the  time  he  left 
Richmond  to  that  of  his  wife's  illness  in  1841,  and 
this  would  agree  with  GowanV  account  of  him  in 
New  York  and  with  Mrs.  Clemm's  statement,  re 
ported  by  Mr.  R.  E.  Shapley,  of  Philadelphia,  — 
"  For  years  I  know  he  did  not  taste  even  a  glass  of 
wine."  To  no  other  period  of  his  mature  life  are 
these  words  applicable.  It  should  be  noted,  too, 
that  Wilmer,  who  sometimes  met  him  in  Philadel 
phia,  says  that  during  their  acquaintance  he  "  did 
not  see  him  inebriated ;  no,  not  in  a  single  in 
stance;"  1  but  in  his  "Recollections"  he  asserts  un 
qualifiedly  that  this  fault  was  the  cause  of  all  of 
Poe's  differences  with  his  employers.  Probably 
the  true  cause  of  the  trouble  was  less  Poe's  habits 
than  his  acts  ;  it  was  of  a  business  nature,  and  in 
the  affair  each  party  seems  to  have  had  matter  for 
complaint.  Burton,  who  it  will  be  remembered 
was  a  comic  actor,  had  got  into  quarrels  with  the 
managers,  and  he  determined  to  have  a  theatre  of 
his  own  ;  to  obtain  this  he  needed  funds,  and  by 
way  of  raising  them  he  advertised  his  magazine 
for  sale  without  mentioning  his  intention  to  Poe. 
The  latter,  on  his  part,  arranged  to  issue  a  prospec 
tus  of  a  new  and  rival  monthly,  "  The  Penii  Mag 
azine,"  without  advising  Burton.  He  had  long 
had  a  strong  ambition  to  have  a  magazine  of  his 
own.  In  fact,  he  was  always  waiting  to  find  some 

1  Our  Press  Gang,  p.  284. 


136  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

one  with  capital  to  embark  in  the  enterprise,  and 
while  still  on  Burton's  was  constantly  uneasy 
through  the  indulgence  of  this  hope.  In  a  letter 
to  Snodgrass,  written  six  months  before,  there  oc 
curs  a  characteristic  passage  :  — 

"  I  have  heard,  indirectly,  that  an  attempt  is  to  be 
made  by  some  one  of  capital  in  Baltimore,  to  get  up  a 
Magazine.  Have  you  heard  anything  of  it?  If  you 
have,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  let  me  know  all  about 
it  by  return  of  mail  —  if  you  can  spend  the  time  to 
oblige  me  —  I  am  particularly  desirous  of  understand 
ing  how  the  matter  stands  —  who  are  the  parties,  &c."  1 

He  was  now  preparing  his  prospectus,  and  no 
doubt  hoped  that  Burton's  going  out  of  the  trade 
would  help  his  own  prospects.  He  might  fairly 
expect  that  in  the  changes  about  to  take  place 
some  of  the  subscribers  to  the  "  Gentleman's " 
would  remain  with  him,  who,  as  its  real  editor,  had 
won  position  and  respect,  especially  with  the  press 
of  the  city,  and  that  they  would  form  a  nucleus 
for  the  circulation  of  the  "Penn."  Whether  in 
fact  he  did,  as  was  charged  by  Griswold,  obtain 
transcripts  of  Burton's  subscription-list  and  other 
valuable  papers,  for  his  own  use,  remains  in  doubt. 
It  was  an  obvious  thing  for  him  to  do ;  he  was  out 
of  humor  with  Burton,  and  as  he  believed  that  the 
latter  would  soon  sell  he  may  not  have  regarded  it 
as  a  dishonorable  proceeding.  Undoubtedly  Bur 
ton  looked  on  Poe's  action  in  advertising  his  new 
1  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  January  21,  1840.  MS.  copy. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  137 

enterprise  at  that  moment  as  likely  to  diminish  the 
selling  value  of  his  property ;  if  in  addition  Poe  at 
tempted  to  secure  his  subscribers  in  an  underhand 
way,  he  would  have  had  cause  to  be  offended,  and 
if  he  remonstrated  Poe  may  have  told  him  that  he 
"  looked  upon  him  as  a  blackguard  and  a  villain," 
in  the  phrases  of  his  letter  to  Snodgrass.  That 
there  is  no  explicit  mention  of  the  charge  in  the 
following  letter,  in  which  Poe  makes  his  explana 
tion  to  his  employer,  counts  for  nothing  in  view 
of  the  points  that  mark  omissions  ;  but  the  letter, 
as  edited,  proves  with  sufficient  certainty  that  the 
"  Perm  Magazine  "  was  the  apple  of  discord,  and 
it  has,  besides,  interesting  bearings  as  an  indica 
tion  of  Poe's  daily  habits  of  business,  his  demeanor 
and  temper. 

SIR  :  —  I  find  myself  at  leisure  this  Monday  morn 
ing,  June  1,  to  notice  your  very  singular  letter  of  Sat 
urday.  ...  I  have  followed  the  example  of  Victorine 
and  slept  upon  the  matter,  and  you  shall  now  hear  what 
I  have  to  say.  In  the  first  place,  your  attempts  to  bully 
me  excite  in  my  mind  scarcely  any  other  sentiment  than 
mirth.  When  you  address  me  again,  preserve,  if  you 
can,  the  dignity  of  a  gentleman.  ...  I  shall  feel  my 
self  more  at  liberty  to  be  explicit.  As  for  the  rest,  you 
do  me  gross  injustice  ;  and  you  know  it.  As  usual,  you 
have  wrought  yourself  into  a  passion  with  me  on  ac 
count  of  some  imaginary  wrong  ;  for  no  real  injury,  or 
attempt  at  injury,  have  you  ever  received  at  my  hands. 
As  I  live,  I  am  utterly  unable  to  say  why  you  are  an 
gry,  or  what  true  grounds  of  complaint  you  have  against 


138  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

me.  You  are  a  man  of  impulses ;  have  made  yourself, 
in  consequence,  some  enemies ;  have  been  in  many  re 
spects  ill-treated  by  those  whom  you  had  looked  upon  as 
friends  —  and  these  things  have  rendered  you  suspicious. 
You  once  wrote  in  your  magazine  a  sharp  critique  upon 
a  book  of  mine  —  a  very  silly  book  —  Pym.  Had  I 
written  a  similar  criticism  upon  a  book  of  yours,  you 
feel  that  you  would  have  been  my  enemy  for  life,  and 
you  therefore  imagine  in  my  bosom  a  latent  hostility  to 
wards  yourself.  This  has  been  a  mainspring  in  your 
whole  conduct  towards  me  since  our  first  acquaintance. 
It  has  acted  to  prevent  all  cordiality.  In  a  general 
view  of  human  nature  your  idea  is  just  —  but  you  will 
find  yourself  puzzled  in  judging  me  by  ordinary  motives. 
Your  criticism  was  essentially  correct,  and  therefore, 
although  severe,  it  did  not  occasion  in  me  one  solitary 
emotion  either  of  anger  or  dislike.  But  even  while  I 
write  these  words,  I  am  sure  you  will  not  believe  them. 
Did  I  not  still  think  you,  in  spite  of  the  exceeding  lit 
tleness  of  some  of  your  hurried  actions,  a  man  of  many 
honorable  impulses,  I  should  not  now  take  the  trouble  to 
send  you  this  letter.  I  cannot  permit  myself  to  suppose 
that  you  would  say  to  me  in  cool  blood  what  you  said  in 
your  letter  of  yesterday.  You  are,  of  course,  only  mis 
taken,  in  asserting  that  I  owe  you  a  hundred  dollars, 
and  you  will  rectify  the  mistake  at  once  when  you  come 
to  look  at  your  accounts. 

Soon  after  I  joined  you,  you  made  me  an  offer  of 
money,  and  I  accepted  $20.  Upon  another  occasion,  at 
my  request,  you  sent  me  enclosed  in  a  letter  $30.  Of 
this  30,  I  repaid  20  within  the  next  fortnight  (drawing 
no  salary  for  that  period).  I  was  thus  still  in  your  debt 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  139 

$30,  when  not  long  ago  I  again  asked  a  loan  of  $30, 
which  you  promptly  handed  to  me  at  your  own  home. 
Within  the  last  three  weeks,  three  dollars  each  week 
have  been  retained  from  my  salary,  an  indignity  which 
I  have  felt  deeply  but  did  not  resent.  You  state  the 
sum  retained  as  $8,  but  this  I  believe  is  through  a  mis 
take  of  Mr.  Morrell.  My  postage  bill,  at  a  guess,  might 
be  $9  or  $10  —  and  I  therefore  am  indebted  to  you, 
upon  the  whole,  in  the  amount  of  about  $60.  More 
than  this  sum  I  shall  not  pay.  You  state  that  you  can 
no  longer  afford  to  pay  $50  per  month  for  2  or  3  pp.  of 
MS.  Your  error  here  can  be  shown  by  reference  to  the 
Magazine.  During  my  year  with  you  I  have  written  — 

In  July  5  pp 

"  August     9   " 

"  Sept.       16   " 

"  Oct.  4  " 

"  Nov.         5   " 

"  Dec.        12   " 

"  Jan.          9   " 

«  Feb.        12   « 

"  March    11   " 

«  April      17   « 

"  May        14   "  +  5  copied— Miss  McMichael's  MS. 

"  June          9   "  -f  3       "         Chandlers. 


132     \sic] 

Dividing  this  sum  by  12,  we  have  an  average  of  11 
pp.  per  month  —  not  2  or  3.  And  this  estimate  leaves 
out  of  question  everything  in  the  way  of  extract  or  com 
pilation.  Nothing  is  counted  but  bond  fide  composition. 
11  pp.  at  $3  per  p.  would  be  $33,  at  the  usual  Magazine 


140  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

prices.  Deduct  this  from  $50,  my  monthly  salary,  and 
we  have  left  $17  per  month,  or  $4  -j^  per  week,  for  the 
services  of  proof-reading;  general  superintendence  at 
the  printing  office  ;  reading,  alteration  and  preparation 
of  MSS.,  with  compilation  of  various  articles,  such  as 
Plate  articles,  Field  sports,  &c.  Neither  has  anything 
been  said  of  my  name  upon  your  title  page,  a  small  item 
—  you  will  say  —  but  still  something,  as  you  know. 
Snowden  pays  his  editresses  $2  per  week  each  for  their 
names  solely.  Upon  the  whole,  I  am  not  willing  to  ad 
mit  that  you  have  greatly  overpaid  me.  That  I  did  not 
do  four  times  as  much  as  I  did  for  the  Magazine  was 
your  own  fault.  At  first  I  wrote  long  articles,  which 
you  deemed  inadmissible,  and  never  did  I  suggest  any 
to  which  you  had  not  some  immediate  and  decided  ob 
jection.  Of  course  I  grew  discouraged,  and  could  feel 
no  interest  in  the  journal. 

I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  why  you  call  me  selfish.  If 
you  mean  that  I  borrowed  money  of  you  —  you  know 
that  you  offered  it,  and  you  know  that  I  am  poor.  In 
what  instance  has  any  one  ever  found  me  selfish  ?  Was 
there  selfishness  in  the  affront  I  offered  Benjamin  (whom 
I  respect,  and  who  spoke  well  of  me)  because  I  deemed  it 
a  duty  not  to  receive  from  any  one  commendation  at  your 
expense?  ...  I  have  said  that  I  could  not  tell  why 
you  were  angry.  Place  yourself  in  my  situation  and 
see  whether  you  would  not  have  acted  as  I  have  done. 
You  first  "  enforced,"  as  you  say,  a  deduction  of  salary  : 
giving  me  to  understand  thereby  that  you  thought  of 
parting  company.  You  next  spoke  disrespectfully  of 
me  behind  my  back  —  this  as  an  habitual  thing  —  to 
those  whom  you  supposed  your  friends,  and  who  punc- 


AY  PHILADELPHIA.  141 

tually  retailed  me,  as  a  matter  of  course,  every  ill-natured 
word  which  you  uttered.  Lastly,  you  advertised  your 
magazine  for  sale  without  saying  a  word  to  me  about  it. 
I  felt  no  anger  at  what  you  did  —  none  in  the  world. 
Had  I  not  firmly  believed  it  your  design  to  give  up  your 
journal,  with  a  view  of  attending  to  the  Theatre,  I  should 
never  have  dreamed  of  attempting  one  of  my  own.  The 
opportunity  of  doing  something  for  myself  seemed  a 
good  one  —  (and  I  was  about  to  be  thrown  out  of  busi 
ness)  —  and  I  embraced  it.  Now  I  ask  you,  as  a  man 
of  honor  and  as  a  man  of  sense  —  what  is  there  wrong 
in  all  this  ?  What  have  I  done  at  which  you  have  any 
right  to  take  offence  ?  I  can  give  you  no  definitive  an 
swer  (respecting  the  continuation  of  Rodman's  Journal) 
until  I  hear  from  you  again.  The  charge  of  $100  I 
shall  not  admit  for  an  instant.  If  you  persist  in  it  our 
intercourse  is  at  an  end,  and  we  can  each  adopt  our  own 
measures. 

In  the  meantime,  I  am, 

Yr.  Obt.  St., 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 
WM.  E.  BURTON,  ESQ. 

This  letter  seems  meant  to  be  conciliatory,  but  if 
the  savageness  of  Poe's  characterization  of  his  old 
chief,  already  given,  is  any  sign,  it  failed  of  its 
purpose.  Burton  suppressed  six  or  seven  criti 
cisms  still  on  hand,  and  wrote  and  spoke  hard 
words  about  his  former  associate.  Nor  did  Poe 
lag  much  behind  in  returning  ill-will.  Six  months 
later  he  wrote  to  Snodgrass  :  — 

1  Poe  to  Burton,  Ingrain,  i.  175-179. 


142  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  Mr.  Burton,  that  illustrious  '  graduate  of  St.  John's 
College,  Cambridge,'  is  going  to  the  devil  with  the  worst 
grace  in  the  world,  but  with  a  velocity  truly  astounding. 
The  press  here  in  a  body,  have  given  him  the  cut  direct. 
So  be  it  —  suum  cuique.  We  have  said  quite  enough 
about  this  genius."  l 

On  the  whole,  the  natural  inference  from  all 
these  papers  is  that  the  two  editors  quarreled  over 
some  incident  connected  with  the  "  Penn  Maga 
zine,"  and  afterwards,  being  angry,  told  their 
friends  all  the  grievances  they  had  against  each 
other,  as  their  justification. 

Burton's  road,  wherever  it  lay,  did  not  again 
cross  Poe's.  Within  two  weeks  after  the  rupture, 
"  The  Penn  Magazine  "  was  publicly  2  announced 
to  appear  January  1,  1841,  and  prospectuses  were 
sent  to  the  press  and  to  private  friends.  Previ 
ous  to  his  quarrel  with  Burton,  Poe  contributed 
to  "  Alexander's  Weekly  Messenger,"  published  by 
the  same  firm  as  the  "  Gentleman's,"  a  series  of 
articles  on  cryptography,  in  which  he  challenged 
his  readers  to  invent  ciphers  which  lie  could  not 
interpret.  According  to  his  own  statement,  out  of 
the  hundred  sent  in  he  read  all  but  one,  and  that 
he  proved  to  be  an  imposture.  He  probably  now 
wrote  further  for  the  same,  and  possibly  for  other 
papers,  as  he  had  done  on  first  coming  to  Phila 
delphia,  and  perhaps  it  was  now  that  he  contrib- 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  January  17,  1841.      MS.  copy. 

2  Philadelphia  Saturday  Chronicle,  June  13,  1840. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  143 

uted  to  the  "  United  States  Military  Magazine,"1 
in  which  at  one  time  he  had  articles  of  consider 
able  length  ;  but  no  work  of  his  has  been  traced 
until  the  December  "  Gentleman's,"  in  which  he 
published  one  of  the  most  striking  of  the  tales  of 
conscience,  "  The  Man  of  the  Crowd."  With  this 
number  the  magazine  passed  under  the  control  of 
George  R.  Graham,  editor  of  a  feeble  monthly, 
the  "  Casket,"  who  had  bought  out  Burton  in  Oc 
tober,  and  now  merged  the  two  under  the  name, 
soon  to  become  famous,  of  "  Graham's  Magazine." 
lie  was  also  one  of  the  proprietors  of  "  The  Sat 
urday  Evening  Post,"  a  weekly,  in  which  Poe  had 
been  praised  with  increasing  warmth  and  fre 
quency  for  the  past  year.  By  such  means,  ap 
parently,  Poe  and  Graham  came  to  a  better  ac 
quaintance  in  the  fall  of  1840.  As  the  winter 
came  on  Poe  was  attacked  by  an  illness  of  unde 
fined  character,  but  presumably  similar  to  those 
which  continued  to  occur  with  increasing  frequency 
until  his  death.  In  consequence  of  this  the  issue 
of  the  "  Penn,"  which  was  to  have  taken  place 
January  1,  was  postponed  until  March  1.  The 
state  of  his  affairs,  as  they  seemed  to  himself  on  re 
covering  his  health,  is  displayed  in  his  correspond 
ence  with  Snodgrass.  He  writes,  January  17  :  — 

1  P.  S.  Duval  to  the  author,  August  4,  1884.  This  magazine 
was  printed  in  Duval's  lithographing  establishment,  in  which 
Wilmer,  in  his  Recollections,  says  Poe  at  one  time,  despairing  of 
literature  as  a  means  of  support,  undertook  to  learn  lithography. 
Mr.  Duval  writes  that  there  is  no  truth  whatever  in  this  state 
ment. 


144  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  You  write  to  know  my  prospects  with  the  '  Penn.' 
They  are  glorious,  notwithstanding  the  world  of  diffi 
culties  under  which  I  labored  and  labor.  My  illness 
(from  which  I  have  now  entirely  recovered),  has  been, 
for  various  reasons,  a  benefit  to  my  scheme  rather  than 
a  disadvantage  ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  if  I  do  not  em 
inently  succeed  in  this  enterprise  the  fault  will  be  al 
together  mine  own.  Still,  I  am  using  every  exertion  to 
insure  success,  and,  among  other  manoeuvres,  I  have  cut 
down  the  bridges  behind  me.  I  must  now  do  or  die  — 
I  mean  in  a  literary  sense. 

"  In  the  literary  way  I  shall  endeavor,  gradually,  (if  I 
cannot  effect  the  purpose  at  once)  to  give  the  Magazine 
a  reputation  for  the  having  no  articles  but  from  the  best 
pens  —  a  somewhat  negative  merit,  you  will  say.  In 
criticism  I  will  be  bold  and  sternly,  absolutely  just,  with 
friend  and  foe.  From  this  purpose  nothing  shall  turn 
me.  I  shall  aim  at  originality  in  the  body  of  the  work, 
more  than  at  any  other  especial  quality.  I  have  one  or 
two  articles  of  my  own  in  statu  pupillari  that  would 
make  you  stare,  at  least,  on  account  of  the  utter  oddity 
of  their  conception.  To  carry  out  the  conception  is  a 
difficulty  which  —  may  be  overcome." 

That  the  lack  of  capital  was  still  a  principal  ob 
stacle,  however,  appears  from  the  conclusion  of  the 
letter :  — 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Snodgrass,  will  you  do  me  a 
favor  ?  I  have  heard  some  mention  of  a  new  magazine 
to  be  started  in  Baltimore  by  a  Virginian  &  a  practical 
printer.  I  am  anxious  to  know  all  the  details  of  the 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  145 

project.  Can  you  procure  and  send  me  (by  return  of 
mail)  a  Prospectus  ?  If  you  cannot  get  one,  will  you  write 
me  all  about  it —  the  gentleman's  name,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  ? 

"I  have  underscored  the  word  'anxious'  because  I 
really  mean  what  I  say,  and  because,  about  a  fortnight 
ago,  I  made  to  the  Hon.  N.  C.  Brooks,  A.  M.  a  request 
just  such  as  I  now  make  to  yourself.  He  did  not  reply  ; 
and  I,  expecting  of  course  the  treatment  which  one  gen 
tleman  naturally  expects  from  another,  have  been  put 
to  the  greatest  inconvenience  by  the  daily  but  fruitless 
expectation."  * 

On  the  back  of  this  letter  was  printed  the  pro 
spectus  of  "  The  Penn  Magazine,"  which  forms  the 
basis  of  Poe's  many  subsequent  notices  of  a  similar 
kind,  and  explains  the  aims  and  purposes  that  he 
continued  to  cherish  as  peculiarly  his  own.  It  read 
as  follows :  — 

PROSPECTUS 

OF 

THE   PENN  MAGAZINE, 

A    MONTHLY   LITERARY   JOURNAL, 

To  be  edited  and  published  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 
By  EDGAR  A.  POE. 

To  THE  PUBLIC.  —  Since  resigning  the  conduct  of  the 
Southern  Literary  Messenger,  at  the  commencement  of 
its  third  year,  I  have  always  had  in  view  the  establish 
ment  of  a  Magazine  which  should  retain  some  of  the 
chief  features  of  that  journal,  abandoning  or  greatly 
modifying  the  rest.  Delay,  however,  has  been  occa 
sioned  by  a  variety  of  causes,  and  not  until  now  have  I 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrass.     MS.  copy. 
10 


146  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

found  myself  at  liberty  to  attempt  the  execution  of  the 
design. 

I  will  be  pardoned  for  speaking  more  directly  of  the 
Messenger.  Having  in  it  110  proprietary  right,  my  ob 
jects  too  being  at  variance  in  many  respects  with  those 
of  its  very  worthy  owner,  I  found  difficulty  in  stamping 
upon  its  pages  that  individuality  which  I  believe  essen 
tial  to  the  full  success  of  all  similar  publications.  In 
regard  to  their  permanent  influence,  it  appears  to  me 
that  a  continuous  definite  character,  and  a  marked  cer 
tainty  of  purpose,  are  requisites  of  vital  importance  ; 
and  I  cannot  help  believing  that  these  requisites  are 
only  attainable  when  one  mind  alone  has  the  general 
direction  of  the  undertaking.  Experience  has  rendered 
obvious  —  what  might  indeed  have  been  demonstrated 
a  priori  —  that  in  founding  a  Magazine  of  my  own  lies 
my  sole  chance  of  carrying  out  to  completion  whatever 
peculiar  intentions  I  may  have  entertained. 

To  those  who  remember  the  early  days  of  the  Southern 
periodical  in  question,  it  will  be  scarcely  necessary  to 
say  that  its  main  feature  was  a  somewhat  overdone  caus 
ticity  in  its  department  of  Critical  Notices  of  new  books. 
The  Penn  Magazine  will  retain  this  trait  of  severity  inso 
much  only  as  the  calmest  yet  sternest  sense  of  justice  will 
permit.  Some  years  since  elapsed  may  have  mellowed 
down  the  petulance  without  interfering  with  the  sight  (?) 
of  the  critic.  Most  surely  they  have  not  yet  taught  him 
to  read  through  the  medium  of  a  publisher's  will,  nor  con 
vinced  him  that  the  interests  of  letters  are  unallied  with 
the  interests  of  truth.  It  shall  be  the  first  and  chief  pur 
pose  of  the  Magazine  now  proposed  to  become  known  as 
one  where  may  be  found  at  all  times,  and  upon  all  sub- 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  147 

jects,  an  honest  and  a  fearless  opinion.  It  shall  be  a 
leading  object  to  assert  in  precept,  and  to  maintain  in 
practice,  the  rights,  while  in  effect  it  demonstrates  the  ad 
vantages,  of  an  absolutely  independent  criticism  ;  —  a 
criticism  self-sustained ;  guiding  itself  only  by  the  purest 
rules  of  Art ;  analyzing  and  urging  these  rules  as  it  ap 
plies  them ;  holding  itself  aloof  from  all  personal  bias  ; 
acknowledging  no  fear  save  that  of  outraging  the  right ; 
yielding  no  point  either  to  the  vanity  of  the  author,  or  to 
the  assumptions  of  antique  prejudice,  or  to  the  involute 
and  anonymous  cant  of  the  Quarterlies,  or  to  the  arro 
gance  of  those  organized  cliques  which,  hanging  on  like 
nightmares  upon  American  literature,  manufacture,  at  the 
nod  of  our  principal  book-sellers,  a  pseudo-public-opinion 
by  wholesale.  These  are  objects  of  which  no  man  need 
be  ashamed.  They  are  purposes,  moreover,  whose  nov 
elty  at  least  will  give  them  interest.  For  assurance  that 
I  will  fulfill  them  in  the  best  spirit  and  to  the  very  letter, 
I  appeal  with  confidence  to  those  friends,  and  especially 
to  those  Southern  friends,  who  sustained  me  in  the  Mes 
senger,  where  I  had  but  a  very  partial  opportunity  of 
completing  my  own  plans. 

In  respect  to  the  other  characteristics  of  the  Penn 
Magazine  a  few  words  here  will  suffice. 

It  will  endeavor  to  support  the  general  interests  of  the 
republic  of  letters,  without  reference  to  particular  regions 
—  regarding  the  world  at  large  as  the  true  audience  of 
the  author.  Beyond  the  precincts  of  literature,  properly 
so  called,  it  will  leave  in  better  hands  the  task  of  in 
struction  upon  all  matters  of  very  grave  moment.  Its 
aim  chiefly  shall  be  to  please  —  and  this  through  means 
of  versatility,  originality,  and  pungency.  It  may  be  as 


148  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

well  here  to  observe  that  nothing  said  in  this  Prospectus 
should  be  construed  into  a  design  of  sullying  the  Maga 
zine  with  any  tincture  of  the  buffoonery,  scurrility,  or 
profanity,  which  are  the  blemish  of  some  of  the  most 
vigorous  of  the  European  prints.  In  all  branches  of  the 
literary  department,  the  best  aid,  from  the  highest  and 
purest  sources,  is  secured. 

To  the  mechanical  execution  of  the  work  the  greatest 
attention  will  be  given  which  such  a  matter  can  require. 
In  this  respect  it  is  proposed  to  surpass,  by  very  much, 
the  ordinary  Magazine  style.  The  form  will  somewhat 
resemble  that  of  The  Knickerbocker ;  the  paper  will  be 
equal  to  that  of  The  North  American  Review ;  pictorial 
embellishments  are  promised  only  in  the  necessary  il 
lustration  of  the  text. 

The  Penn  Magazine  will  be  published  in  Philadelphia, 
on  the  first  of  each  month  :  and  will  form,  half-yearly,  a 
volume  of  about  500  pages.  The  price  will  be  $5  per 
annum,  payable  in  advance,  or  upon  the  receipt  of  the 
first  number,  which  will  be  issued  on  the  first  of  March, 
1841.  Letters  addressed  to  the  Editor  and  Proprietor, 

EDGAR  A.  POE. 

PHILADELPHIA,  January  1,  1841. 

These  purposes  and  the  sanguine  hopes  of  Poe 
were  balked  by  the  coincidence  of  a  good  offer 
from  Graham  and  a  financial  depression  through 
the  country.  The  "  Saturday  Evening  Post,"  Feb 
ruary  20,  1841,  announced  that  the  scheme  of  the 
"  Penn  Magazine  "  had  been  suspended,  owing  to 
the  disturbance  in  monetary  affairs,  in  which  peri 
odicals  were  always  the  first  to  suffer ;  it  was  added 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  149 

that  its  editor  had  the  finest  prospects  of  success, 
the  press,  and  particularly  the  South  and  West, 
being  warm  in  his  cause,  and  an  excellent  list 
of  subscribers  having  been  already  secured;  this 
"  stern,  just,  and  competent  critic,"  it  concluded, 
would  now  take  the  editorial  chair  of  "  Graham's." 
Poe's  hand  may  be  clearly  seen  in  the  critical 
department  of  "  Graham's  "  as  early  as  February, 
but  his  responsibility  as  editor  in  charge  did  not 
begin  until  the  April  issue.  From  that  time  until 
June  of  the  next  year  he  contributed  to  every  num 
ber,  much  of  what  he  wrote  being  of  his  best  work. 
This  period  of  his  authorship  is  especially  distin 
guished  by  a  remarkable  quickening  of  his  pow 
ers  of  analytical  reasoning,  by  virtue  of  which  he 
struck  out  a  new  vein  of  fiction.  The  first  notable 
sign  of  this  mental  development  is  in  the  articles 
contributed  to  "  Alexander's  Weekly  Messenger," 
about  January,  1840,  while  he  was  still  engaged  on 
Burton's  magazine,  on  the  subject  of  cryptogra 
phy,  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made.  In 
July,  1841,  he  returned  to  the  subject,  in  "Gra 
ham's,"  and  again  received  and  translated  several 
intricate  cryptographs.  On  the  first  of  May  pre 
vious,  when  Graham's  weekly,  the  "  Saturday  Even 
ing  Post,"  appeared  in  an  enlarged  and  improved 
form,  he  gave  distinction  to  the  number  by  an  anal 
ogous  exercise  of  his  analytical  powers,  —  his  suc 
cessful  exposure  of  the  plot  of  "  Barnaby  Rudge  " 
from  the  material  afforded  by  the  introductory 


150  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

chapters.  Dickens  is  said  to  have  been  so  sur 
prised  as  to  ask  Poe  if  he  were  the  devil.  It 
was  in  April,  however,  in  the  very  first  number  of 
his  editing,  that  "  Graham's  "  contained  his  earliest 
story  in  which  this  interest,  the  employment  of 
method  in  disentangling  a  plot  by  mere  ratiocina- 
jtion,  is  principally  involved.  It  was  "The  Mur- 
klers  of  the  Kue  Morgue,"  perhaps  the  most  fa 
mous  of  his  tales.  It  has  been  objected  that  really 
there  is  no  analysis  in  unraveling  a  web  woven  for 
that  purpose  ;  and,  in  a  sense,  this  is  true.  Acute 
as  Poe's  penetrative  powers  were,  the  ratiocinative 
tales  (with  the  possible  exception  of  "  The  Mystery 
of  Marie  Koget")  do  not  illustrate  them.  The 
primary  gift  employed  in  these  ingenious  narratives 
is  constructiveness  ;  they  differ  from  their  prede 
cessors,  from  "  The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher  " 
for  example,  not  in  the  intellectual  faculties  exer 
cised,  but  in  their  aim  and  conduct.  In  the  earlier 
group  Poe  gradually  worked  up  to  the  denotiment 
of  a  highly  complicated  series  of  facts  and  emo 
tions  ;  in  the  later  one,  stating  only  the  denofiment 
of  a  similar  series,  he  gradually  worked  back  to  its 
origins ;  in  both  cases  he  first  constructed  the  story, 
but  in  telling  it  he  reversed  in  one  the  method  used 
in  the  other.  The  main  difference  is  that  in  the 
old  process  the  emotional  element  counts  for  more, 
while  in  the  new  one  the  incidents  are  necessarily 
the  important  part ;  indeed,  they  almost  absorb  at 
tention.  That  the  ratiocinative  tales  are  on  a 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  151 

lower  level  than  the  imaginative  ones  hardly  needs 
to  be  said,  since  it  is  so  conclusively  indicated  by 
the  fact  that  later  writers  have  far  surpassed  Poe 
in  the  complexity  of  this  sort  of  mechanism,  and 
therefore  in  the  apparent  miracle  of  the  solution. 
They  come  short  of  Poe  only  in  the  original  in 
vention  of  the  plot ;  that  is  to  say,  they  fail  by 
defects  of  imagination  in  the  selection,  and  of  ar 
tistic  power  in  the  grouping,  of  their  facts,  for  it 
would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  interest 
in  "  The  Murders  of  the  Rue  Morgue  "  is  simply 
the  puzzle  of  detection. 

The  other  tales  that  appeared  during  this  period 
are,  in  the  "  Post,"  the  insignificant  "  A  Succes 
sion  of  Sundays  "  ("  Three  Sundays  in  a  Week  "), 
and  in  "  Graham's  '"  "  The  Descent  into  the  Mael 
strom,"  which  is  to  be  classed  with  the  "  MS.  Found 
in  a  Bottle,"  and  is  the  best  of  its  kind;  "The 
Island  of  the  Fay,"  the  earliest  of  the  simple  land 
scape  pieces,  and  a  study,  as  it  proved,  for  "  Eleo- 
nora ;  "  an  arabesque  in  his  old  manner,  "  The 
Colloquy  of  Monos  and  Una,"  noticeable  as  the 
first  open  expression  of  dissatisfaction  with  modern 
institutions ;  the  two  inferior  sketches,  "  Never  Bet 
the  Devil  your  Head,"  a  satire  on  tales. with  a 
moral,  and  "  Life  in  Death  "  ("  The  Oval  Por 
trait"),  a  variation  of  an  old  theme  ;  and,  lastly,  the 
fine  color  study,  "  The  Masque  of  the  Eed  Death," 
in  which  the  plot  is  managed  almost  exclusively 
by  merely  decorative  effects. 


152  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

In  nearly  all  these  tales,  and  particularly  in  this 
last  one,  the  constructive  genius  of  their  author  is 
most  distinctively  exercised ;  they  are  thus  admira 
ble  illustrations  of  his  theory  as  he  developed  it 
in  his  critical  writings  of  this  period,  and  fully 
reach  the  high  standard  of  literary  art  by  which  he 
measured  the  works  of  others.  Poe  preferred  the 
form  of  the  short  story  to  that  of  the  novel,  for  the 
same  reason  that  he  thought  brevity  an  essential 
in  purely  poetic  composition,  because  length  is  in 
consistent  with  a  single  effect,  or,  as  he  termed  it, 
with  the  unity  or  totality  of  interest.  Both  his  aim 
and  his  method  in  narrative  prose  are  succinctly 
described  in  his  own  words  :  — 

"  A  skilful  literary  artist  has  constructed  a  tale.  If 
wise,  he  has  not  fashioned  his  thoughts  to  accommodate 
his  incidents ;  but  having  conceived,  with  deliberate 
care,  a  certain  unique  or  single  effect  to  be  wrought 
out,  he  then  invents  such  incidents  —  he  then  combines 
such  events  as  may  best  aid  him  in  establishing  this  pre 
conceived  effect.  If  his  very  initial  sentence  tend  not 
to  the  outbringing  of  this  effect,  then  he  has  failed  in  his 
first  step.  In  the  whole  composition  there  should  be  no 
word  written,  of  which  the  tendency,  direct  or  indirect, 
is  not  to  the  one  preestablished  design.  And  by  such 
means,  with  such  care  and  skill,  a  picture  is  at  length 
painted  which  leaves  in  the  mind  of  him  who  contem 
plates  it  with  a  kindred  art,  a  sense  of  the  fullest  satis 
faction.  The  idea  of  the  tale  has  been  presented  un 
blemished,  because  undisturbed  ;  and  this  is  an  end  un 
attainable  by  the  novel."  ] 

i   Works,  ii.  197, 198. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  153 

In  Poe's  best  tales  it  is  this  ideal  absolutely  real 
ized  that  has  made  them  immortal. 

Of  his  old  poetry  he  contributed  to  the  "  Post " 
"  The  Coliseum  "  and  "  The  Bridal  Ballad,"  and  to 
"  Graham's,"  "  To  Helen,"  "  Israfel,"  and  "  To  One 
Departed,"  the  last  two  much  revised.  The  bulk 
of  his  writing,  however,  was  critical,  and  consisted 
of  notices  of  new  books.  In  the  course  of  the  fif 
teen  months  he  passed  in  review,  at  greater  or  less 
length,  and  with  various  degrees  of  care,  works 
by  Bulwer,  Dickens,  Macaulay,  Marryatt,  Lever, 
and  James,  and,  of  American  authors,  Longfellow 
and  Hawthorne,  besides  others  of  only  local  noto 
riety,  such  as  Brainard,  the  Davidson  Sisters,  Seba 
Smith,  Wilmer,  and  Cornelius  Mathews.  There 
were  shorter  notices  of  many  others,  both  at  home 
and  abroad,  contemporary  and  classic  ;  and  in  par 
ticular  there  was  a  concise  view  of  over  a  hundred 
native  writers  in  three  papers,  entitled  "  Autogra 
phy,"  an  expansion  of  similar  articles  in  the  "  Mes 
senger  "  for  1836.  Without  entering  in  this  place 
on  the  question  of  Poe's  powers  and  influence  as 
a  critic  (and  throughout  his  life,  it  must  always  be 
kept  in  mind,  he  was  far  more  distinguished  in 
America  as  a  critic  than  as  either  a  romancer  or  a 
poet),  his  attitude  toward  his  contemporaries  can 
not  be  even  momentarily  neglected  at  any  stage  of 
his  career. 

This  attitude  had  not  changed  since  he  was  ed 
itor  of  the  "  Messenger."  He  still  remembered  his 


154  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

review  of  "  Norman  Leslie  "  as  inaugurating  the 
new  age  in  American  criticism,  and  Theodore  S. 
Fay  continued  to  be  his  favorite  example  of  the 
bepuffed  literary  impostor.  His  general  view  of 
our  literary  affairs  at  this  time  was  expressed  in  a 
review  of  the  scurrilous  and  filthy  satire  by  his 
friend  Wilmer,  "The  Quacks  of  Helicon,"  in 
which  he  had  incorporated  his  article  written  two 
years  before  and  revamped  by  the  editor  of  the 
"  Pittsburg  Examiner  "  in  that  short-lived  period 
ical  :  — 

"  We  repeat  it :  —  it  is  the  truth  which  he  has  spoken  ; 
and  who  shall  contradict  us  ?  He  has  said  unscrupu 
lously  what  every  reasonable  man  among  us  lias  long 
known  to  be  'as  true  as  the  Pentateuch'  —  that,  as  a 
literary  people,  we  are  one  vast  perambulating  humbug. 
He  has  asserted  that  we  are  clique-ridden  ;  and  who 
does  not  smile  at  the  obvious  truism  of  that  assertion  ? 
He  maintains  that  chicanery  is,  with  us,  a  far  surer  road 
than  talent  to  distinction  in  letters.  Who  gainsays  this  ? 
The  corrupt  nature  of  our  ordinary  criticism  has  become 
notorious.  Its  powers  have  been  prostrated  by  its  own 
arm.  The  intercourse  between  critic  and  publisher,  as  it 
now  almost  universally  stands,  is  comprised  either  in  the 
paying  and  pocketing  of  blackmail,  as  the  price  of  a 
simple  forbearance,  or  in  a  direct  system  of  petty  and 
contemptible  bribery,  properly  so-called  —  a  system  even 
more  injurious  than  the  former  to  the  true  interests  of 
the  public,  and  more  degrading  to  the  buyers  and  sellers 
of  good  opinion,  on  account  of  the  more  positive  char 
acter  of  the  service  here  rendered  for  the  consideration 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  155 

received.  We  laugh  at  the  idea  of  any  denial  of  our 
assertions  upon  this  topic  ;  they  are  infamously  true.  .  .  . 
"  We  may  even  arrive,  in  time,  at  that  desirable  point 
from  which  a  distinct  view  of  our  men  of  letters  may 
be  obtained,  and  their  respective  pretensions  adjusted, 
by  the  standard  of  rigorous  and  self-sustaining  criticism 
alone.  That  their  several  positions  are  as  yet  properly 
settled  ;  that  the  posts  which  a  vast  number  of  them  now 
hold  are  maintained  by  any  better  tenure  than  that  of 
the  chicanery  upon  which  we  have  commented,  will  be 
asserted  by  none  but  the  ignorant,  or  the  parties  who 
have  best  right  to  feel  an  interest  in  the  '  good  old  con 
dition  of  things.'  No  two  matters  can  be  more  radically 
different  than  the  reputation  of  some  of  our  prominent 
litterateurs,  as  gathered  from  the  mouths  of  the  people, 
(who  glean  it  from  the  paragraphs  of  the  papers),  and 
the  same  reputation  as  deduced  from  the  private  esti 
mate  of  intelligent  and  educated  men.  We  do  not  ad 
vance  this  fact  as  a  new  discovery.  Its  truth,  on  the 
contrary,  is  the  subject,  and  has  long  been  so,  of  every 
day  witticism  and  mirth. 

..."  Is  there  any  man  of  good  feeling  and  of  or 
dinary  understanding  —  is  there  one  single  individual 
among  all  our  readers  —  who  does  not  feel  a  thrill  of 
bitter  indignation,  apart  from  any  sentiment  of  mirth, 
as  he  calls  to  mind  instance  after  instance  of  the  purest, 
of  the  most  unadulterated  quackery  in  letters,  which 
has  risen  to  a  high  post  in  the  apparent  popular  estima 
tion,  and  which  still  maintains  it,  by  the  sole  means 
of  a  blustering  arrogance,  or  of  a  busy  wriggling  con 
ceit,  or  of  the  most  bare -faced  plagiarism,  or  even 
through  the  simple  immensity  o£  its 

' 


156  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

sumptions  not  only  unopposed  by  the  press  at  large,  but 
absolutely  supported  in  proportion  to  the  vociferous 
clamor  with  which  they  are  made  —  in  exact  accord 
ance  with  their  utter  baselessness  and  untenability  ?  We 
should  have  no  trouble  in  pointing  out.  to-day,  some 
twenty  or  thirty  so-called  literary  personages,  who,  if 
not  idiots,  as  we  half  think  them,  or  if  not  hardened  to 
all  sense  of  shame  by  a  long  course  of  disingenuousness, 
will  now  blush,  in  the  perusal  of  these  words,  through 
consciousness  of  the  shadowy  nature  of  that  purchased 
pedestal  on  which  they  stand  —  will  now  tremble  in 
thinking  of  the  feebleness  of  the  breath  which  will  be 
adequate  to  the  blowing  it  from  beneath  their  feet.  With 
the  help  of  a  hearty  good  will,  even  we  may  yet  tumble 
them  down."  1 

From  this  general  condemnation  Poe  excepted 
an  editor  or  two,  and  he  reminded  Wilmer,  in 
deprecating  indiscriminate  abuse,  that  there  were  a 
few  poets  among  us  :  — 

"Mr.  Bryant  is  not  all  a  fool.  Mr.  Willis  is  not 
quite  an  ass.  Mr.  Longfellow  will  steal,  but,  perhaps, 
he  cannot  help  it  (for  we  have  heard  of  such  things,) 
and  then  it  must  not  be  denied  that  nil  tetigit  quod  non 
ornavit"  2 

In  his  own  glance  at  the  literary  republic,  in  the 
"  Autography,"  he  had  dispensed  praise  very  freely, 
nine  tenths  of  the  verdicts  being  favorable  and  many 
flattering.  The  principal  exceptions  were  among 
the  New  England  writers,  especially  those  whom 

1    Works,  iv.  542-547.  2  Ibid.  iv.  549. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  157 

he  believed  to  belong  to  the  clique  of  the  "  North 
American  Review ;  "  Emerson,  in  particular,  as 
being,  moreover,  a  transcendentalist,  he  treated 
contemptuously,  and  Longfellow,  whom  he  gener 
ously  declares  "  entitled  to  the  first  place  among 
the  poets  of  America,"  but  adds,  on  jealous  reflec 
tion,  "  certainly  to  the  first  place  among  those  who 
have  put  themselves  prominently  forth  as  poets," 
he  strikes  at  with  the  old  cut,  as  being  guilty  of 
the  sin  of  imitation,  —  "  an  imitation  sometimes 
verging  upon  down-right  theft."  J 

In  more  detailed  criticisms  of  current  books, 
Poe,  as  was  to  be  expected,  merely  made  specifica 
tions  of  his  general  strictures  regarding  the  low 
character  of  our  literature.  Whether  he  dealt  with 
poetry  or  prose,  with  the  dunces  or  the  geniuses, 
his  estimate,  after  he  had  first  asked  the  absorb 
ing  question,  "  Was  the  writer  a  literary  thief  ?  " 
was  that  of  a  craftsman,  and  had  almost  exclusive 
reference  to  the  workmanship.  It  consisted,  as  he 
would  have  said,  in  the  application  of  principles  of 
composition,  in  minute  detail,  instead  of  in  the 
enunciation  of  them.  Consequently,  the  criticism 
is,  as  a  rule,  so  bound  up  with  the  work  to  which  it 
relates  as  to  have  no  value  by  itself,  and  has  now 
no  vitality.  He  spoke  the  truth  in  describing  his 
reviews  as  neither  wholly  laudatory  nor  wholly  de 
famatory  even  in  the  mest  exasperating  cases  of 
stupidity.  To  the  reader  it  will  not  infrequently 
1  Works,  ii.  xviii. 


158  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

seem  that  he  used  a  giant's  force  to  crush  a  fly,  or 
in  too  many  passages  was  guilty  of  the  worst  taste, 
or  even  now  and  then  became  scurrilous,  blustering", 

7  o" 

and  vituperative,  or,  especially  when  he  attempted 
humor,  very  flat.  The  traits  of  his  style  were  al 
ways  the  same,  whether  he  was  pricking  a  reputa 
tion  or  confining  himself  to  mere  criticism  ;  he  at 
tended  to  one,  or  another,  or  all,  of  certain  points, 
the  chief  being  originality  in  idea,  handling,  con 
struction,  keeping,  rhetorical  and  grammatical 
rules ;  and  he  exemplified  by  citation  whatever  de 
fects  or  merits  he  found.  Very  seldom  he  felt 
able  to  give  unstinted  praise,  as  to  Hawthorne, 
whose  tales  he  said  belonged  "  to  the  highest  region 
of  Art  —  an  Art  subservient  to  genius  of  a  very 
lofty  order,"  and  whose  mind  he  declared  "  origi 
nal  in  all  points  ;  "  1  but  even  this  notice,  in  which 
his  insight  and  his  justice  are  both  conspicuous,  he 
could  not  forbear  to  blot  with  the  suggested  charge 
that  in  "  Howe's  Masquerade  "  the  New  Englander 
had  stolen  directly  from  some  passages  in  his  own 
"  William  Wilson." 

In  none  of  these  articles  does  Poe  develop  any 
principles  except  in  that  on  Longfellow's  "  Ballads 
and  other  Poems."  He  barely  touched  the  old  of 
fense  of  plagiarism,  but  made  his  attack  in  a  new 
quarter  by  attempting  to  show  that  Longfellow's 
"  conception  of  the  aims  of  poesy  is  all  wrong  "  for 
the  reason  tfyat  "  didacticism  is  the  prevalent  tone 
f  Works,  ii.  199. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  159 

of  his  song."  In  his  proof  Poe  restated  his  poetic 
theory,  which  had  become  freed  from  its  meta 
physics  since  five  years  before,  and  in  the  course  of 
his  argument  he  struck  out  the  happy  phrase  that 
remained  his  pet  definition  of  poetry  ever  after  :  — 

"  Its  [Poetry's]  first  element  is  the  thirst  for  supernal 
BEAUTY  —  a  beauty  which  is  not  afforded  the  soul  by 
any  existing  collocation  of  earth's  forms  —  a  beauty 
which,  perhaps,  no  possible  combination  of  these  forms 
would  fully  produce.  Its  second  element  is  the  attempt 
to  satisfy  this  thirst  by  novel  combinations  among  those 
forms  of  beauty  which  already  exist,  —  or  by  novel  com 
binations  of  those  combinations  which  our  predecessors, 
toiling  in  chase  of  the  same  phantom,  have  already  set 
in  order.  We  thus  clearly  deduce  the  novelty,  the  orig 
inality,  the  invention,  the  imagination,  or  lastly,  the 
creation  of  BEAUTY  (for  the  terms  as  here  employed 
are  synonymous)  as  the  essence  of  all  Poesy."  x 

With  a  slight  change  (which  summed  up  in  one 
word  a  succeeding  paragraph,  embodying  his  view 
that  music  was  a  necessary  constituent),  this  defini 
tion  of  poetry  as  being  "  the  rhythmical  creation  of 
beauty  "  became  the  first  principle  of  his  poetic  criti 
cism,  as  indeed,  however  obscurely  made  out,  it  had 
always  been.  His  former  doctrine  that  a  poem 
should  have  complete  unity  within  itself  he  reiter 
ated  by  reprinting  unchanged  the  passage  already 
quoted  from  the  "  Messenger  "  of  1836.  In  accord 
ance  with  these  canons,  Longfellow,  whom  under  all 
1  Works,  ii.  366. 


160  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

circumstances  Poe  ranked  at  the  head  of  our  poets, 
was  judged  to  fail  by  making  truth  either  a  pri 
mary  end  or  one  secondary  to  mere  beauty,  and  to 
succeed  by  confining  his  poems  each  to  one  idea. 

Whether  these  piquant  criticisms  and  powerful 
tales  made  "  Graham's  "  popular,  or  whether  its  suc 
cess  was  due  to  the  shrewd  business  sagacity  and 
generous  advertisement  of  its  owners,  the  magazine 
had  at  once  a  brilliant  run.  It  had  opened  with  a 
circulation  of  eight  thousand  in  January,  1841 ;  in 
July  it  had  risen  to  seventeen  thousand  ;  in  Decem 
ber  (at  which  time  the  names  of  Mrs.  Emma  C. 
Embury  and  Mrs.  Ann  S.  Stephens  were  added  to 
those  of  George  R.  Graham,  C.  J.  Peterson,  and 
Edgar  A.  Poe,  as  editors)  it  was  twenty-five  thou 
sand,  and  in  March  forty  thousand,  —  in  each  case 
according  to  the  public  announcement  in  the  maga 
zine  itself.  Poe  was  the  working  editor  during  this 
time,  and  is  fairly  entitled  to  a  considerable,  if  not 
the  main,  share  in  the  success  of  the  undertaking. 
At  the  same  time  he  seems  never  to  have  been  con 
tented  with  his  position,  and  especially  he  con 
tinued  to  cherish  the  plan  of  starting  the  "  Penn 
Magazine."  Shortly  after  assuming  the  editorship 
he  wrote  to  Snodgrass,  "  The  '  Penn,'  I  hope,  is 
only  4  scotched,  not  killed,'  "  and  added  that  the 
project  would  "unquestionably  be  resumed  here 
after  ; " l  and  a  few  months  later  he  addressed  his 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  April  1,  1841,  Baltimore  American,  April, 
1881. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  161 

old  friend,  Kennedy,  then  in  Congress,  on  the  same 
subject,  as  appears  from  a  letter  to  Mr.  F.  W. 
Thomas,  a  Baltimore  friend,  poet  and  novelist, 
dated  July  4,  1841 :  "  I  wrote  to  Mr.  K.  about  ten 
days  ago  on  the  subject  of  a  magazine,  a  project 
of  mine  in  connection  with  Graham."  l  Poe  doubt 
less  referred  to  the  same  scheme  when  he  wrote 
to  Snodgrass,  on  September  19,  what,  in  view  of 
the  success  of  "  Graham's,"  seems  a  strange  pas 
sage  :  — 

"It  is  not  impossible  that  Graham  will  join  me  in  the 
i  Penn.'  He  has  money.  By  the  way  is  it  impossible 
to  start  a  first-class  mag.  in  Baltimore?  Is  there  no 
publisher  or  gentleman  of  moderate  capital  who  would 
join  me  in  this  scheme  ?  —  publishing  the  work  in  the 
City  of  Monuments  ?  "  2 

A  more  conclusive  indication  of  restless  dissatis 
faction  with  his  seeming  good  fortune  as  editor  of 
the  leading  American  magazine  occurs  in  an  earlier 
letter  to  Thomas,  dated  June  26,  1841 :  - 

"  I  have  just  heard  through  Graham,  who  obtained 
his  information  from  Ingraham,  that  you  have  stepped 
into  an  office  at  Washington,  salary  $1,000.  From  the 
bottom  of  my  heart  I  wish  you  joy.  You  can  now  lu 
cubrate  at  your  ease,  and  will  infallibly  do  something 
worthy  yourself. 

"  For  my  own  part,  notwithstanding  Graham's  unceas 
ing  civility  and  real  kindness,  I  feel  more  and  more  dis- 

1  Poe  to  Thomas,  Stoddard,  xcv. 

2  Poe  to  Suodgrass,  MS.  copy. 

11 


162  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

gusted  with  my  situation.  Would  to  God  I  could  do  as 
you  have  done.  Do  you  seriously  think  that  an  applica 
tion  on  my  part  to  Tyler  would  have  a  good  result  ? 
My  claims,  to  be  sure,  are  few.  I  am  a  Virginian  —  at 
least  I  call  myself  one,  for  I  have  resided  all  my  life, 
until  within  the  last  few  years,  in  Richmond.  My  polit 
ical  principles  have  always  been,  as  nearly  as  may  be, 
with  the  existing  administration,  and  I  battled  with  right 
good  will  for  Harrison,  when  opportunity  offered.  With 
Mr.  Tyler  I  have  some  slight  personal  acquaintance,  al 
though  it  is  a  matter  which  he  has  possibly  forgotten. 
For  the  rest  I  am  a  literary  man,  and  I  see  a  dis 
position  in  Government  to  cherish  letters.  Have  I  any 
chance  ?  I  would  be  greatly  indebted  to  you  if  you 
would  reply  to  this  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  tell  if  it 
would,  in  your  opinion,  be  worth  my  while  to  make  an 
effort ;  and,  if  so,  put  me  on  the  right  track.  This 
could  not  be  better  done  than  by  detailing  to  me  your 
own  mode  of  proceeding."  * 

On  July  4,  Poe  followed  this  up  by  another  more 
urgent  request :  — 

"  I  received  yours  of  the  1st,  this  morning,  and  have 
again  to  thank  you  for  the  interest  you  take  in  my  wel 
fare.  I  wish  to  God  I  could  visit  Washington,  but  — 
the  old  story,  you  know  —  I  have  no  money  ;  not  enough 
to  take  me  there,  saying  nothing  of  getting  back.  It  is 
a  hard  thing  to  be  poor ;  but  as  I  am  kept  so  by  an  hon 
est  motive  I  dare  not  complain. 

"Your  suggestion  about  Mr.  Kennedy  is  well-timed, 
and  here,  Thomas,  you  can  do  me  a  true  service.  Call 
1  Poe  to  Thomas,  Stoddard,  xciii. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  163 

upon  Kennedy  —  you  know  him,  I  believe  ;  if  not,  intro 
duce  yourself  —  he  is  a  perfect  gentleman,  and  will  give 
you  cordial  welcome.  Speak  to  him  of  my  wishes,  and 
urge  him  to  see  the  Secretary  of  War  in  my  behalf,  or 
one  of  the  other  Secretaries,  or  President  Tyler.  I  men 
tion  in  particular  the  Secretary  of  War,  because  I  have 
been  to  W.  Point,  and  this  may  stand  me  in  some  stead. 
I  would  be  glad  to  get  almost  any  appointment,  even  a 
$500  one,  so  that  I  have  something  independent  of  let 
ters  for  a  subsistence.  To  coin  one's  brain  into  silver,  at 
the  nod  of  a  master,  is,  to  my  thinking,  the  hardest  task 
in  the  world.  Mr.  Kennedy  has  been,  at  all  times,  a  true 
friend  to  me  —  he  was  the  first  true  friend  I  ever  had  — 
I  am  indebted  to  him  for  life  itself.  He  will  be  willing 
to  help  me  now,  but  needs  urging,,  for  he  is  always  head 
and  ears  in  business."  l 

Besides  indulging  in  these  plans  Poe  now  remem 
bered  his  old  publishers,  Lea  &  Blanchard,  and  en 
tertained  the  hope  that  they  would  undertake  a  new 
edition  of  his  "  Tales,"  including  the  best  of  those 
written  since  1839.  A  few  weeks  after  their  first 
publication,  he  had  written  to  Snodgrass,  "I  am 
happy  to  say  that  the  edition  is  already  very  nearly 
exhausted."  2  On  June  17,  1840,  he  amplified  this 
statement  by  saying,  "  Touching  my  Tales  you 
will  scarcely  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am 
ignorant  of  their  fate,  and  have  never  spoken  to  the 
publishers  concerning  them  since  the  day  of  their 

1  Poe  to  Thomas,  Stocldsird,  xciv.,  xcv.      » 

2  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  December  19,  1839.    MS.  copy. 


164  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

issue.    I  have  cause  to  think,  however,  that  the  edi 
tion  was  exhausted  almost  immediately."  l 

Perhaps  it  was  still  with  this  impression  that  he 
addressed  the  following  letter :  — 

MESSRS.  LEA  &  BLANCHARD, — 

PHILADELPHIA. 

GENTLEMEN:  I  wish  to  publish  a  new  collection  of 
my  prose  Tales  with  some  such  title  as  this :  — 

'  The  Prose  Tales  of  Edgar  A.  Poe,  including  "  The 
Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue"  the  "  Descent  into  the 
Maelstrom"  and  all  his  later  pieces,  with  a  second 
edition  of  the  "  Tales  of  the  Grotesque  §  Arabesque" ' 

The  later  pieces  will  be  eight  in  number,  making  the 
entire  collection  thirty-three,  which  would  occupy  two 
thick  novel  volumes. 

I  am  anxious  that  your  firm  should  continue  to  be  my 
publishers,  and,  if  you  would  be  willing  to  bring  out  the 
book,  I  should  be  glad  to  accept  the  terms  which  you 
allowed  me  before,  that  is,  you  receive  all  profits,  and 
allow  me  twenty  copies  for  distribution  to  friends. 

Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  me  an  early  reply  to 
this  letter,  and  believe  me 

Yours,  very  respectfully, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.2 
PHILADELPHIA, 
Office  Graham's  Magazine,  August  13,  '41. 

Whatever  doubt  he  had  regarding  the  matter  was 
dissipated  by  the  reply  of  the  firm :  — 

1  Poe  to  Snodgrass,  MS.  copy. 

2  The  Library  of  George  W.  C/tilds,  described  by  F.  W.  Rob 
inson.     Philadelphia,  1882  :  pp.  13,  14. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  165 

Aug.  16,  1841. 

EDGAR  A.  POE 

We  have  yrs  of  15th  inst  in  which  you  are  kind  enough 
to  offer  us  a  "  new  collection  of  prose  Tales." 

In  answer  we  very  much  regret  to  say  that  the  state 
of  affairs  is  such  as  to  give  little  encouragement  to  new 
undertakings.  As  yet  we  have  not  got  through  the  edi 
tion  of  the  other  work  and  up  to  this  time  it  has  not  re 
turned  to  us  the  expense  of  its  publication.  We  assure 
you  that  we  regret  this  on  your  account  as  well  as  on  our 
own  —  as  it  would  give  us  great  pleasure  to  promote  your 
views  in  relation  to  publication.1 

[Unsigned.] 

But  if  Poe  could  not  start  his  own  magazine,  nor 
get  a  public  office,  nor  publish  a  new  volume  of 
"Tales,"  his  lot  was  to  all  outward  appearance 
fortunate ;  his  prospects  were  brilliant,  his  reputa 
tion  steadily  growing,  his  associates  friendly,  and, 
especially,  his  home  was  in  a  condition  of  greater 
comfort  than  ever  before.  Whatever  practical  diffi 
culties  it  was  his  lot  to  encounter,  no  shadow  had 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  little  cottage  where 
he  lived  with  his  wife  and  her  mother  in  a  close 
privacy  of  watchful  love  and  domestic  happiness. 
Mrs.  Clemm,  a  vigorous  woman  of  about  fifty 
years,  who  is  said  to  have  had  the  face,  size,  and 
figure  of  a  man,  was  the  head  of  the  household,  re 
ceived  and  expended  Poe's  wages,  and  kept  things 
in  order.  The  few  acquaintances  who  called  on  the 
family  sometimes  wondered,  as  did  Mayne  Reid, 
1  Letter-book  of  Lea  and  Blanchard. 


166  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

how  this  masculine  matron  should  have  been  the 
mother  of  the  fragile  girl,  still  under  twenty-one, 
whose  feminine  beauty  and  charm  was  of  so  del 
icate  an  order  that  she  seems  nearly  as  sylph-like 
as  one  of  Poe's  imaginary  creations.  "  She  hardly 
looked  more  than  fourteen,"  writes  Mr.  A.  B.  Har 
ris,  who  knew  her  at  this  time,  "  fair,  soft,  and 
graceful  and  girlish.  Every  one  who  saw  her  was 
won  by  her.  Poe  was  very  proud  and  very  fond 
of  her,  and  used  to  delight  in  the  round,  child-like 
face  and  plump  little  finger  [sic.  Q.  figure?], 
which  he  contrasted  with  himself,  so  thin  and  half- 
melancholy  looking,  and  she  in  turn  idolized  him. 
She  had  a  voice  of  wonderful  sweetness,  and  was  an 
exquisite  singer,  and  in  some  of  their  more  prosper 
ous  days,  when  they  were  living  in  a  pretty  little 
rose-covered  cottage  on  the  outskirts  of  Philadel 
phia,  she  had  her  harp  and  piano." l  The  third 
member  of  this  strangely-consorted  group,  Poe  him 
self,  was  the  same  reserved,  isolated,  dreamy  man, 
of  high-strung  nerves,  proud  spirit,  and  fantastic 
moods,  that  he  had  been  in  youth.  With  senses 
excessively  acute  and  a  mind  easily  accessible  to 
motives  of  dread,  if  he  was  not  the  monomaniac  of 
fear  he  knew  in  Eoderick  Usher,  he  was  always 
haunted  by  suggestions  of  evil  to  come ;  nor  was 
he  quite  free  from  the  vague  apprehension  that  be 
longs  to  children's  minds.  He  did  not  like  to  go 
out  in  the  dark,  and  with  such  jocularity  as  he  was 

1  Hearth  and  Home.    Quoted  in  Ingram,  i.  221. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  167 

capable  of  said  that  he  believed  evil  demons  had 
power  then.  In  his  home  alone  he  found  happi 
ness,  affection,  and  a  refuge  from  contact  with  the 
world. 

One  evening  when  Virginia  was  singing  she  rup 
tured  a  blood-vessel ;  her  life  was  despaired  of,  and 
although  she  partially  recovered  it  was  only  to  sink 
again  and  again.  The  sick-bed  was  now  the  centre 
of  the  secluded  home.  "  She  could  not  bear  the 
slightest  exposure,"  writes  Mr.  Harris,  "and  needed 
the  utmost  care ;  and  all  those  conveniences  as  to 
apartment  and  surroundings  which  are  so  impor 
tant  in  the  case  of  an  invalid  were  almost  matters 
of  life  and  death  to  her.  And  yet  the  room  where 
she  lay  for  weeks,  hardly  able  to  breathe,  except  as 
she  was  fanned,  was  a  little  place  with  the  ceiling 
so  low  over  the  narrow  bed  that  her  head  almost 
touched  it.  But  no  one  dared  to  speak,  Mr.  Poe 
was  so  sensitive  and  irritable ;  '  quick  as  steel  and 
flint,'  said  one  who  knew  him  in  those  days.  And 
he  would  not  allow  a  word  about  the  danger  of  her 
dying  ;  the  mention  of  it  drove  him  wild."  *  Mr. 
Graham  also  tells  how  he  saw  Poe  hovering  around 
the  couch  with  fond  fear  and  tender  anxiety,  shud 
dering  visibly  at  her  slightest  cough  ;  and  he  con 
tinues,  "  I  rode  out  one  summer  evening  with  them, 
and  the  remembrance  of  his  watchful  eyes,  eagerly 
bent  upon  the  slightest  change  of  hue  in  that  loved 
face,  haunts  me  yet  as  the  memory  of  a  sad  strain."2 

1  Hearth  and  Home.     Quoted  by  Ingram,  i.  223,  224. 

2  Wnrlat,  \.  xcvii. 


168  EDGAR   ALLAN  POE. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  long  suspense  of  years, 
with  their  racking  alternations  of  hope  and  despair, 
which  Poe  called  his  worst  misfortune. 

But  the  subtle  influence  which  preserves  a  poet's 
heart  from  the  wounds  of  life  touched  him,  and 
raised  the  transitory  elements  of  his  common  story 
and  transformed  them,  and  made  them  a  part  of 
the  world's  tradition  of  love  and  loss.  In  "  Eleo- 
nora,"  which  was  published  in  the  "Gift"  for  1842, 
his  absorbing  sorrow  turned  thought  and  affliction 
to  favor  and  to  prettiness.  In  this  alone  of  all  his 
tales  is  there  any  sign  of  the  warmth,  the  vital 
sense  of  human  love.  The  myth  —  for  such  it  is  — 
is  pictorial,  like  a  mediaeval  legend :  the  child-lov 
ers  are  set  in  one  of  those  preternatural  land 
scapes  which  his  genius  built  in  the  void ;  but  on 
this  sequestered  Paradise  there  fell  no  shadow  save 
that  of  loveliness  curtaining  in  innocent  peace,  be 
hind  thick  forests  and  innumerable  flowers,  the 
Valley  of  the  Many-Colored  Grass,  through  which 
the  River  of  Silence  flowed  noiselessly,  and  watered 
the  slender,  white-barked  trees  that  leaned  toward 
the  light,  and  mirrored  the  scented  lawns  besprin 
kled  with  lilies  and  a  thousand  bright  blossoms. 
Here  love  came  to  the  boy  and  girl,  beneath  the 
fantastic  trees  suddenly  bursting  into  bloom  with 
bright  star-shaped  flowers,  and  they  wander,  like  a 
new  Aucassin  and  Mcolette,  along  the  river  that 
now  murmurs  musically,  and  over  the  ruby-red 
asphodels  that  spring  up  ten  by  ten  in  the  place 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  169 

of  the  fallen  white  lilies;  and  the  valley  is  filled 
with  marvelous  light  and  life  and  joy,  as  if  glory 
and  sweetness  were  imprisoned  within  its  vaporous 
limits.  Symbolism  has  seldom  been  more  simple 
and  pure,  more  imaginative,  childlike,  and  direct, 
more  absolute  master  of  the  things  of  sense  for  the 
things  of  the  spirit,  than  in  this  unreal  scene. 
Burne  Jones  might  paint  it,  for  it  is  the  very  spirit 
that  sang  of  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose.  Rossetti 
might  have  sung  its  sad  conclusion  ;  for  now  the 
lady  died  :  — 

"  The  star-shaped  flowers  shrank  into  the  stems  of  the 
trees,  and  appeared  no  more.  The  tints  of  the  green 
carpet  faded  ;  and,  one  by  one,  the  ruby-red  asphodels 
withered  away  ;  and  there  sprang  up,  in  place  of  them, 
ten  by  ten,  dark,  eye-like  violets,  that  writhed  uneasily 
and  were  ever  encumbered  with  dew.  And  Life  departed 
from  our  paths  ;  for  the  tall  flamingo  flaunted  no  more 
his  scarlet  plumage  before  us,  but  flew  sadly  from  the 
vale  into  the  hills,  with  all  the  gay  glowing  birds  that  had 
arrived  in  his  company.  And  the  golden  and  silver  fish 
swam  down  through  the  gorge  at  the  lower  end  of  our 
domain  and  bedecked  the  sweet  river  never  again.  And 
the  lulling  melody  that  had  been  softer  than  the  wind 
harp  of  -ZEolus,  and  more  divine  than  all  save  the  voice 
of  Eleonora,  it  died  little  by  little  away,  in  murmurs 
growing  lower  and  lower,  until  the  stream  returned,  at 
length,  utterly,  into  the  solemnity  of  its  original  silence. 
And  then,  lastly,  the  voluminous  cloud  uprose,  and,  aban 
doning  the  tops  of  the  mountains  to  the  dimness  of  old, 
fell  back  into  the  regions  of  Hesper,  and  took  away  all 


170  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

its  manifold  golden  and  gorgeous  glories  from  the  Valley 
of  the  Many-Colored  Grass."  1 

Poe's  life  was  full  of  glaring  contrasts,  just  such 
as  there  is  between  this  exquisite  foreboding  of  his 
widowhood  in  symbols  and  the  hard  reality.  To 
this  experience  of  the  fragility  of  his  hold  on  hap 
piness,  and  to  this  first  perception  of  it  toward  the 
fall  of  1841,  he  attributed  the  worst  of  his  failures, 
the  loss  of  all  power  to  resist  the  temptation  to 
drink. 

At  a  later  time,  in  answer  to  the  question 
whether  he  could  hint  the  "  terrible  evil "  which 
was  the  cause  of  his  "  irregularities,"  he  wrote  :  — 

"  Yes,  I  can  do  more  than  hint.  This  '  evil '  was  the 
greatest  which  can  befall  a  man.  Six  years  ago,  a  wife, 
whom  I  loved  as  no  man  ever  loved  before,  ruptured  a 
blood-vessel  in  singing.  Her  life  was  despaired  of.  I 
took  leave  of  her  forever,  and  underwent  all  the  agonies 
of  her  death.  She  recovered  partially,  and  I  again 
hoped.  At  the  end  of  a  year,  the  vessel  broke  again. 
I  went  through  precisely  the  same  scene.  .  .  .  Then 
again  —  again  —  and  even  once  again,  at  varying  inter 
vals.  Each  time  I  felt  all  the  agonies  of  her  death  — 
and  at  each  accession  of  the  disorder  I  loved  her  more 
dearly  and  clung  to  her  life  with  more  desperate  per 
tinacity.  But  I  am  constitutionally  sensitive  —  nervous 
in  a  very  unusual  degree.  I  became  insane,  with  long 
intervals  of  horrible  sanity.  During  these  fits  of  abso 
lute  unconsciousness  I  drank  —  God  only  knows  how 
often  or  how  much.  As  a  matter  of  course,  my  enemies 

1  Works,  lii.  450. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  171 

referred  the  insanity  to  the  drink,  rather  than  the  drink 
to  the  insanity."  ] 

Whether  this  self-abandonment  to  temptation 
was  sudden  or  gradual  is  not  stated;  it  may  be 
that  Poe's  troubles  merely  occasioned  an  increase 
in  those  irregularities  which  were  said  to  be  matter 
of  common  fame  before  this  time.  A  cousin,  who 
was  intimate  with  the  family  at  the  time  of  Vir 
ginia's  seizure,  says  that  he  then  frequently  refused 
wine  in  her  presence,  and  adds  the  too  significant 
words  that  at  that  time  his  fits  of  intoxication  were 
due  to  the  excessive  use  of  opium.2 

In  the  next  spring  (1842)  he  lost  the  editorship 
of  "  Graham's."  The  only  explanation  vouchsafed 
by  the  proprietor  is  that  one  day,  on  returning  from 
an  unusual  absence  from  his  duties,  Poe  found  Mr. 
Rufus  Wilmot  Griswold  in  his  chair,  and  at  once 
turned  and  left  the  office  never  to  return.3  This 
could  hardly  have  been  more  than  an  incident  in 
the  truth.  A  man  even  so  impulsive  as  Poe  does 
not  thus  surrender  through  pique  his  main  source- 
of  support,  especially  when  he  has  a  sick  wife  and 
is  poor ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  would  a  business 
man  like  Graham  allow  an  editor,  who  had  placed 
his  magazine  easily  at  the  head  of  all  competitors 
and  made  it  a  paying  property,  to  depart  for  any 
such  trivial  display  of  temper.  Without  making 

1  Poe  to  ,   January   4,  1848.     Ingram,  i.  215,  216. 

2  Miss  A.  F.  Poe  to  the  author,  September  13,  1884. 
8  Gill,  pp.  110,  111. 


172  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

an  assertion,  it  may  fairly  be  inferred  that,  to  use 
Mr.  Kennedy's  words  in  regard  to  Poe's  failure  on 
the  "  Messenger,"  his  nature  was  too  "  eccentric, 
irregular,  and  querulous  "  for  him  to  hold  the  posi 
tion  ;  furthermore,  as  has  become  clear  enough,  his 
heart  was  not  in  the  work :  he  had  been  chafing 
as  restlessly  in  this  position  as  when  on  "  Burton's," 
and  had  continually  sought  other  modes  of  support. 
Mr.  Graham  had  engaged  Griswold  temporarily, 
and  the  "  Saturday  Evening  Post,"  May  14,  1842, 
now  announced  that  he  had  become  an  associate 
editor  of  that  paper  and  of  "  Graham's."  In  the 
magazine  itself  it  was  stated  that  his  duties,  as 
Poe's  successor,  would  begin  with  the  July  number. 
Unfortunately,  Griswold  was  to  inherit  Poe's  desk 
once  more  as  a  biographer,  and  therefore  some  closer 
notice  must  be  taken  of  him. 

Rufus  Wilmot  Griswold,  when  he  was  thus  pub 
licly  announced  as  the  new  editor  of  "Graham's  "  in 
May,  1842,  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-seven  years, 
who  had  some  time  before  left  the  Baptist  ministry 
for  the  more  attractive  walks  of  literature.  He 
had  published  both  sermons  and  songs,  and  had 
served  on  several  newspapers  in  Boston,  New  York, 
and  Philadelphia ;  latterly  he  had  been  engaged  in 
compiling  his  popular  volume,  "  The  Poets  and  Po 
etry  of  America," -- that  Ilic  Jacet  of  American 
mediocrities  of  the  first  generation.  An  unsup 
ported  statement  by  Griswold  respecting  Poe  is 
liable  to  suspicion,  but  there  is  no  improbability  in 


72V  PHILADELPHIA,  .       173 

his  account  of  the  beginning  of  the  most  unfor 
tunate  acquaintance  of  his  life.  Poe  was  the  editor 
of  "  Graham's  "  when  he  heard  of  Griswold's  inten 
tion  to  set  in  order  the  "American  Parnassus;"  but 
he  was  not  widely  known  as  a  poet,  —  in  fact,  he  had 
practically  abandoned  poetry  in  late  years.  He  was, 
however,  fond  of  his  early  verses,  and  he  was  never 
known  to  omit  any  opportunity  of  advertising  him 
self.  It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  shortly  after 
the  announcement  of  Griswold's  venture  he  should 
call  on  him  for  the  purpose  of  securing  admission 
among  Apollo's  candidates,  and  it  is  consistent  with 
all  that  is  known  of  his  habits  that  he  should  fur 
nish1  in  March,  1841,  a  selection  from  his  own 
verses  and  material  for  a  biography.  When,  a  year 
later,  tho  unexpected  meeting  in  Graham's  office 
took  place,  the  incident  caused  no  rupture  in  the 
friendly  relations  of  the  two  men.  In  April  Gris 
wold's  long-expected  volume  had  been  issued,  and 
Poe  offered  to  review  it  for  him.  The  transaction 
which  then  occurred  should  be  given  in  Poe's 
words.  September  12,  1842,  he  wrote  to  his  friend, 
Mr.  F.  W.  Thomas,  as  follows :  — 

"  Graham  has  made  me  a  good  offer  to  return.  He  is 
not  especially  pleased  with  Griswold,  nor  is  any  one  else, 

1  Poe  to  Griswold,  March  29,  1841.  Griswold,  xxi.  The  gen 
uineness  of  these  letters  as  printed  has  been  doubted,  but  the  au 
thor  believes  that  they  are  unquestionably  Poe's  compositions,  and 
in  all  probability  exact  copies  of  the  originals.  The  grounds  of 
this  opinion  involve  too  many  minutiaB  to  be  recounted. 


174  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

with  the  exception  of  the  Rev.  gentleman  himself,  who 
has  gotten  himself  into  quite  a  hornet's  nest  by  his  '  Poets 
and  Poetry.'  It  appears  you  gave  him  personal  offence 
by  delay  in  replying  to  his  demand  for  information  touch 
ing  Mrs.  Welby,  I  believe,  or  somebody  else.  Hence 
his  omission  of  you  in  the  body  of  the  book ;  for  he  had 
prepared  quite  a  long  article  from  my  MS.,  and  had  se 
lected  several  pages  for  quotation.  He  is  a  pretty  fellow 
to  set  himself  up  for  an  honest  judge,  or  even  as  a  capa 
ble  one.  About  two  months  since,  we  were  talking  of 
the  book,  when  I  said  that  I  thought  of  reviewing  it  in 
full  for  the  Democratic  Review ,  but  found  my  design 
anticipated  by  an  article  from  that  ass  O'Sullivan,  and 
that  I  knew  no  other  w^ork  in  which  a  notice  would  be 
readily  admissible.  Griswold  said,  in  reply :  i  You  need 
not  trouble  yourself  about  the  publication  of  the  review, 
should  you  decide  on  writing  it,  for  I  will  attend  to  all 
that.  I  will  get  it  in  some  reputable  work,  and  look  to 
it  for  the  usual  pay,  in  the  meantime  handing  you  what 
ever  your  charge  would  be.'  This,  you  see,  was  an  in 
genious  insinuation  of  a  bribe  to  puff  his  book.  I  accepted 
his  offer  forthwith,  and  wrote  the  review,  handed  it  to 
him,  and  received  from  him  the  compensation ;  he  never 
daring  to  look  over  the  MS.  in  my  presence,  and  taking 
it  for  granted  that  all  was  right.  But  that  review  has 
not  yet  appeared,  and  I  am  doubtful  if  it  ever  will.  I 
wrote  it  precisely  as  I  would  have  written  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  and  be  sure  there  was  no  predominance  of 
praise."  1 

This  does  not  read  very  consistently  with  another 

1  Poe  to  Thomas,  Stoddard,  xcvii.,  xcviii. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  175 

letter,1  belonging  clearly  to  a  later  time,  in  which  he 
informs  Griswold  that  he  has  made  use  of  his  name 
with  the  publishers  for  a  copy,  and  contemplates  no 
ticing  it  in  Lowell's  "  Pioneer." 

While  these  changes  were  going  on,  Poe  had  not 
relaxed  his  efforts  to  obtain  an  office  under  gov 
ernment,  and  in  the  letter  to  Thomas,  just  quoted, 
he  expresses  high  hopes  of  success  and  great  grati 
tude  to  his  friend  for  his  efforts  in  the  matter.  At 
the  same  time  he  was  considering  Graham's  offer 
to  return,  and  a  proposal  vaguely  entertained  by 
Foster,  editor  of  the  "  Aurora,"  to  start  a  magazine 
in  New  York  under  Poe's  charge.  None  of  these 
plans  came  to  anything ;  and,  as  always  when  every 
thing  else  failed,  Poe  returned  to  his  scheme  for 
starting  a  magazine  of  his  own.  He  had  at  once  ad 
vertised  the  "  Penn  "  on  leaving  "  Graham's,"  2  and 
addressed  his  friends  and  acquaintances  through  a 
new  Prospectus,  and  besought  them  to  obtain  sub 
scriptions,  of  which  he  needed  five  hundred.  As 
before,  "  The  Penn  Magazine  "  was  to  be  original, 
fearless,  and  independent,  and  would  in  particular 
open  its  columns  to  merit  instead  of  mushroom 
reputations,  and  would  be  distinguished  by  criti 
cism  instead  of  puffery.  To  Washington  Poe,  the 

1  Poe  to  Griswold.     Griswold,  xxi.     Cf.  letter  circa  January, 
1849,  ibid,  xxii.,  in  which  Poe  speaks  of  the  review  in  the  Pioneer 
as  having  actually  appeared  in  1843,  but  it  is  not  to  be  found 
there.     Possibly  Poe  contributed  it,  and  the  sudden  suspension  of 
the  Pioneer  prevented  its  publication. 

2  The  New  York  Mirror,  July  30,  1842. 


176  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

head  of  his  Augusta  relatives,  he  wrote  in  August 
that  he  would  issue  the  first  number  in  the  next 
January,  with  the  hope  that  he  might  serve  truth 
and  advance  American  literature,  and  that  fortune 
and  fame  would  now  come  to  him  hand  in  hand.1 
He  succeeded  in  interesting  Mr.  Thomas  C.  Clarke, 
the  owner  of  the  "  Saturday  Museum,"  a  weekly 
paper,  in  his  plan,  and  the  two  entered  into  a  part 
nership  for  the  publication  of  the  new  periodical, 
which  it  was  thought  best  to  call  "  The  Stylus." 

The  literary  work  of  Poe  during  the  last  half  of 
this  year  was  slight.  In  October  he  contributed  to 
"  Graham's  "  his  long-delayed  article  on  "  Rufus 
Dawes,"  in  which  at  last  he  took  satirical  vengeance 
on  that  poetaster.  A  weaker  and  less  prominent 
magazine,  "  Snowden's  Lady's  Companion,"  was  his 
principal  resource ;  in  it  he  published  in  October 
"The  Landscape  Garden,"  and  in  November,  De 
cember,  and  February  "The  Mystery  of  Marie 
Roget,"  in  parts.  In  this  fall,  too,  he  addressed 
for  the  first  time  Mr.  J.  R.  Lowell,  who  had  sev 
eral  times  been  praised  by  him  incidentally,  and 
who  was  about  to  issue  a  new  periodical  in  Boston. 
As  the  correspondence  thus  begun  is  the  most  in 
teresting  series  of  letters  by  Poe,  and  as  it  throws 
considerable  light  upon  both  his  affairs  and  his 
character,  it  will  be  given  in  full :  — 
DR  SIR, 

Learning  your  design  of  commencing  a  Magazine,  in 
1  Poe  to  Washington  Poe,  August  15,  1842.     Gill,  p.  114. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  177 

Boston,  upon  the  first  of  January  next,  I  take  the  liberty 
of  asking  whether  some  arrangement  might  not  be  made, 
by  which  I  should  become  a  regular  contributor. 

I  should  be  glad  to  furnish  a  short  article  each  month 

—  of  such  character  as  might  be  suggested  by  yourself 

—  and  upon  such  terms  as  you  could  afford  "  in  the  be 
ginning." 

That  your  success  will  be  marked  and  permanent  I 
will  not  doubt.  At  all  events,  I  most  sincerely  wish  you 
well ;  for  no  man  in  America  has  excited  in  me  so  much 
admiration  —  and,  therefore,  none  so  much  of  respect 
and  esteem  —  as  the  author  of  "Rosaline." 

May  I  hope  to  hear  from  you  at  your  leisure  ?  In  the 
meantime,  believe  me 

Most  Cordially  Yours, 

EDGAR  ALLAN  PoE.1 
JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL,  ESQRE. 
PHILADELPHIA  Novem  :  16,  1842. 

The  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  and  articles  were 
sent  by  Poe,  as  suggested,  for  each  number.  The 
two  following  letters  continue  the  story  of  the  ac 
quaintance  :  — 

[not  dated  —  mailed  December  25,  1842.] 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND 

I  send  you  a  brief  poem  for  No  2,  with  my  very  best 
wishes. 

I  duly  received  yours  of  the  19th  and  thank  you  for 
reversing  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Tuckerman  —  the  author 
of  the  "  Spirit  of  Poesy,"  —  which,  by  the  way,  is  some 
what  of  a  misnomer  —  since  no  spirit  appears. 

1  Poe  to  Lowell,  MS. 
32 


178  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Touching  the  "  Miscellany  "  —  had  I  known  of  Mr. 
T.'s  accession,  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  send  an 
article.  Should  he,  at  any  time,  accept  an  effusion  of 
mine,  I  should  ask  myself  what  twattle  I  had  been  per 
petrating,  so  flat  as  to  come  within  the  scope  of  his 
approbation.  He  writes,  through  his  publishers,  —  "if 
Mr.  Poe  would  condescend  to  furnish  more  quiet  articles 
he  would  be  a  most  desirable  correspondent."  All  I 
have  to  say  is  that  if  Mr.  T.  Persists  in  his  quietude,  he 
will  put  a  quietus  on  the  Magazine  of  which  Mess. 
Bradbury  and  Soden  have  been  so  stupid  as  to  give  him 
control. 

I  am  all  anxiety  to  see  your  first  number.  In  the 
meantime  believe  me,1 

[Signature  torn  off.] 

PHILADELPHIA  February  4,  1843. 
MY  DEAR  MR.  LOWELL, 

For  some  weeks  I  have  been  daily  proposing  to  write 
and  congratulate  you  upon  the  triumphant  debut  of  the 
"  Pioneer,"  but  have  been  prevented  by  a  crowd  of  more 
worldly  concerns. 

Thank  you  for  the  compliment  in  the  foot-note.  Thank 
you,  also,  for  your  attention  in  forwarding  the  Maga 
zine. 

As  far  as  a  $3  Magazine  can  please  me  at  all,  I  am 
delighted  with  yours.  I  am  especially  gratified  with 
what  seems  to  me  a  certain  coincidence  of  opinion  and 
of  taste,  between  yourself  and  your  humble  servant,  in 
the  minor  arrangements,  as  well  as  in  the  more  im 
portant  details  of  the  journal,  for  example  —  the  poetry 

i  Poe  to  Lowell,  MS. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  179 

in  the  same  type  as  the  prose  —  the  designs  from  Flax- 
man  —  &c.  As  regards  the  contributors  our  thoughts 
are  one.  Do  you  know  that  when,  some  time  since,  I 
dreamed  of  establishing  a  Magazine  of  my  own,  I  said 
to  myself  —  "If  I  can  but  succeed  in  engaging,  as  per 
manent  contributors,  Mr.  Hawthorne,  Mr.  Neal,  and  two 
others,  with  a  certain  young  poet  of  Boston,  who  shall 
be  nameless,  I  will  engage  to  produce  the  best  journal  in 
America."  At  the  same  time,  while  I  thought,  and  still 
think  highly  of  Mr.  Bryant,  Mr.  Cooper,  and  others,  I 
said  nothing  of  them. 

You  have  many  warm  friends  in  this  city  —  but  the 
reforms  you  propose  require  time  in  their  development, 
and  it  may  be  even  a  year  before  "  The  Pioneer  "  will 
make  due  impression  among  the  Quakers.  In  the  mean 
time,  persevere. 

I  forwarded  you,  about  a  fortnight  ago  I  believe,  by 
Hamden's  Express,  an  article  called  "  Notes  upon  Eng 
lish  Verse."  A  thought  has  struck  me,  that  it  may  prove 
too  long,  or  perhaps  too  dull,  for  your  Magazine  —  in 
either  case,  use  no  ceremony,  but  return  it  in  the  same 
mode  (thro'  Hamden)  and  I  will,  forthwith,  send  some 
thing  in  its  place. 

I  duly  received  from  Mr.  Graham,  $10  on  your 
account,  for  which  I  am  obliged.  I  would  prefer,  how 
ever,  that  you  would  remit  directly  to  myself  through  the 
P.  Office. 

I  saw,  not  long  ago,  at  Graham's,  a  poem  without  the 
author's  name  —  but  which  for  many  reasons  I  take  to 
be  yours  —  the  chief  being  that  it  was  very  beautiful. 
Its  title  I  forget  but  it  slightly  veiled  a  lovely  Allegory  — 
in  which  "  Religion  "  was  typified,  and  the  whole  painted 


) 


180  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

the  voyage  of  some  wanderers  and  mourners  in  search 
of  some  far-off  isle.     Is  it  yours  ? 

Truly  your  friend         E.  A.  PoE.1 

Within  a  few  weeks  of  the  date  of  this  letter, 
the  Prospectus  of  "  The  Stylus "  was  first  issued 
through  the  columns  of  the  "  Saturday  Museum," 
which  called  attention  to  it  in  an  editorial  puff  of 
Poe.  The  Prospectus  is  shorter  than  that  of  the 
"  Penn  Magazine,"  but  the  identity  of  the  two  is 
avowed,  and  in  the  important  parts  describing  the 
aims  of  the  editors  the  same  sentences  formerly 
used  are  incorporated.  The  "  chief  purpose"  is 
still  declared  to  be  to  found  a  journal  distinguished 
by  "  a  sincere  and  fearless  opinion,"  and  it  is  an 
nounced  as  earnest  of  this  intention  that  "  an  im 
portant  feature  of  the  work,  and  one  which  will  be 
introduced  in  the  opening  number,  will  be  a  series 
of  '  Critical  and  Biographical  Sketches  of  Ameri 
can  Writers.'  "  "  The  Stylus  "  was  to  be  illustrated 
also,  like  the  "  Penn,"  and  an  agreement,  signed 
January  31,  1843,  was  entered  into  between  Clarke 
and  Poe  on  one  side  and  F.  O.  C.  Darley  on  the 
other,  in  accordance  with  which  the  latter  was  to 
furnish  not  less  than  three  original  designs  per 
month  to  Clarke  and  Poe,  at  seven  dollars  each, 
until  July  1,  1844,  and  was  not  to  contribute 
similar  designs  for  use  in  any  other  magazine  dur 
ing  that  period.  The  subjects  were  to  be  given  by 
the  editors,  and  the  first  work  put  into  the  artist's 
1  Poe  to  Lowell,  MS. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  181 

hands  for  this  purpose  was  "  The  Gold  Bug,"  for 
which  he  made  and  delivered  some  designs.  Poe 
himself  took  the  story  to  Mr.  Darley,  with  whom 
he  held  pleasant  relations.  "  He  impressed  me," 
writes  the  latter,  "  as  a  refined  and  very  gentle 
manly  man ;  exceedingly  neat  in  his  person ;  in 
teresting  always,  from  the  intellectual  character  of 
his  mind,  which  appeared  to  me  to  be  tinged  with 
sadness.  His  manner  was  quiet  and  reserved  ;  he 
rarely  smiled.  I  remember  his  reading  his  '  Gold 
Bug '  and  '  Black  Cat '  to  me  before  they  were 
published.  The  form  of  his  manuscript  was  pe 
culiar:  he  wrote  on  half  sheets  of  note  paper, 
which  he  pasted  together  at  the  ends,  making  one 
continuous  piece,  which  he  rolled  up  tightly.  As 
he  read  he  dropped  it  upon  the  floor.  It  was 
very  neatly  written,  and  without  corrections,  ap 
parently."  l  Several  of  these  small  rolls  still  exist. 

In  aid  of  the  new  venture  Poe's  life  and  portrait 
were  printed  in  the  "  Saturday  Museum,"  of  which 
it  was  announced  that  he  was  editor.  The  life  was 
written  by  a  young  Philadelphia  poet,  H.  B.  Hirst, 
from  materials  furnished  by  T.  W.  White,  of  the 
"Messenger,"  and  Thomas;  and  the  portrait,  which 
was  said  to  be  a  mere  caricature,  was  lithographed 
from  a  miniature. 

Poe  himself  was  shortly  after  sent  to  Washing 
ton  to  obtain  subscriptions  among  his  political 
friends,  and,  if  possible,  those  of  the  President 

1  Darley  to  the  author,  February  2G,  1884. 


182  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

and  Cabinet  through  his  old  acquaintance,  Eob 
Tyler.  He  apparently  also  meant  to  lecture,  and 
to  look  after  his  prospects  of  becoming  an  office 
holder,  the  particular  post  in  view  being  an  In 
spectorship.  The  visit  was  unfortunate.  On  the 
evening  of  his  arrival  he  began  to  drink,  and  his 
host's  "  rummy  coffee  "  following  port  wine  made 
the  beginning  of  a  spree.  On  the  next  day,  March 
11,  he  so  far  lost  his  head  as  to  write  a  contra 
dictory  and  untrue  letter,1  plainly  the  composition 
of  an  intoxicated  man,  to  his  partner ;  and  a  day 
later,  Mr.  J.  E.  Dow,  who  was  taking  care  of  him, 
also  dispatched  a  letter  to  Mr.  Clarke,  advising 
him  to  come  on  and  take  charge  of  his  friend,  as 
Mr.  Thomas  was  too  ill  to  do  so,  and  he  himself  too 
much  engaged,  while  they  both  felt  afraid  to  send 
him  off  to  Philadelphia  alone,  lest  he  should  be  led 
to  stop  at  Baltimore,  and  there  meet  with  some 
harm.  "  Mrs.  Poe,"  says  the  writer  pitifully,  "  is 
in  a  bad  state  of  health,  and  I  charge  you,  as  you 
have  a  soul  to  be  saved,  to  say  not  one  word  to  her 
about  him  until  he  arrives  with  you."  2  Poe,  how 
ever,  was  sent  home  by  himself,  and  arrived  at 
Philadelphia  March  15,  where  he  was  met  at  the 
station  by  Mrs.  Clemm.  After  going  home  he 
called  on  Clarke,  who  was  greatly  surprised  to  see 
him,  but  received  him  "  cordially  and  made  light 
of  the  matter ; "  at  least,  so  Poe  wrote  to  his  two 

*  !  Poe  to  Clarke.     Gill,  p.  120- 
2  Dow  to  Clarke.     Gill,  p.  121. 


/AT  PHILADELPHIA.  183 

friends,  Thomas  and  Dow,  the  next  day,  in  a  long 
epistle,1  in  which,  although  treating  the  affair 
jocosely,  and  alarmed  for  its  possible  effects  on 
Clarke's  mind,  he  expresses  his  regret  and  sends 
his  apologies,  with  many  words  of  gratitude  for  the 
attention  shown  him.  He  remarks  incidentally,  "  I 
would  be  glad,  too,  if  you  would  take  an  opportu 
nity  of  saying  to  Mr.  Rob  Tyler  that  if  he  can 
look  over  matters  and  give  me  the  Inspectorship,  I 
will  join  the  Washingtonians  forthwith ;  "  but  he 
seems  to  have  made  up  his  mind  that  his  hopes  of 
office  were  vain. 

That  Clarke  was  not  implacably  offended  by  this 
episode,  which  Poe  accounted  for  as  an  attack  of 
illness  which  had  unduly  alarmed  Dow,  appears 
from  the  following  letter  to  Lowell,  in  which  the 
project  of  the  "  Stylus  "  is  announced  to  him.  The 
"  Pioneer  "  had  already  met  its  fate,  and  Lowell 
was  himself  ill  with  ophthalmia. 

PHILADELPHIA,  March  27,  43. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

I  have  just  received  yours  of  the  24th  and  am  deeply 
grieved,  first  that  you  should  have  been  so  unfortunate, 
and,  secondly,  that  you  should  have  thought  it  necessary 
to  offer  me  any  apology  for  your  misfortunes.  As  for 
the  few  dollars  you  owe  me  —  give  yourself  not  one 
moment's  concern  about  them.  I  am  poor,  but  must  be 
very  much  poorer,  indeed,  when  I  even  think  of  demand 
ing  them. 

1  Poe  to  Thomas  and  Dow,  March  16,  1843.     MS.  copy. 


184  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

But  I  sincerely  hope  all  is  not  so  bad  as  you  suppose 
it,  and  that,  when  you  come  to  look  about  you,  you  will 
be  able  to  continue  "  The  Pioneer."  Its  decease,  just 
now,  would  be  a  most  severe  blow  to  the  good  cause  — 
the  cause  of  a  Pure  Taste.  I  have  looked  upon  your 
Magazine,  from  its  outset,  as  the  best  in  America,  and 
have  lost  no  opportunity  of  expressing  the  opinion. 
Herewith  I  send  a  paper,  "  The  Phil.  Sat.  Museum," 
in  which  I  have  said  a  few  words  on  the  topic. 

I  am  not  editing  this  paper,  although  an  announce 
ment  was  prematurely  made  to  that  effect ;  but  have  the 
privilege  of  inserting  what  I  please  editorially.  On  the 
first  of  July  next  I  hope  to  issue  the  first  number  of 
"  The  Stylus,"  a  new  monthly,  with  some  novel  features. 
I  send  you,  also,  a  paper  containing  the  Prospectus.  In 
a  few  weeks  I  hope  to  forward  you  a  specimen  sheet.  I 
am  anxious  to  get  a  poem  from  yourself  for  the  opening 
number,  but,  until  you  recover  your  health,  I  fear  that  I 
should  be  wrong  in  making  the  request. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  sympathize  with 
you  truly  in  your  affliction.  When  I  heard  that  you  had 
returned  to  Boston,  I  hoped  you  were  entirely  well,  and 
your  letter  disappoints  and  grieves  me. 

When  you  find  yourself  in  condition  to  write,  I  would 
be  indebted  to  you  if  you  could  put  me  in  the  way  of 
procuring  a  brief  article  (also  for  my  opening  number) 
from  Mr.  Hawthorne  —  whom  I  believe  you  know  per 
sonally.  Whatever  you  gave  him,  we  should  be  happy 
to  give.  A  part  of  my  design  is  to  illustrate,  whatever 
is  fairly  susceptible  of  illustration,  with  finely  executed 
wood-engravings  —  after  the  fashion  of  Gigoux's  "  Gil 
Bias  "  or  "  Grandville's  Gulliver  "  —  and  I  wish  to  get 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  185 

a  tale  from  Mr.  Hawthorne  as  early  as  possible  (if  I  am 
so  fortunate  as  to  get  one  at  all),  that  I  may  put  the  il 
lustration  in  the  hands  of  the  artist. 

You  will  see  by  the  Prospectus  that  we  intend  to  give 
a  series  of  portraits  of  the  American  literati,  with  crit 
ical  sketches.  I  would  be  glad  if  I  could  so  arrange 
matters  as  to  have  you  first,  provided  you  yourself  have 
no  serious  objection.  Instead  of  the  "  full-length  por 
traits  "  promised  in  the  Prospectus  (which  will  be  mod 
ified  in  the  specimen  sheet),  we  shall  have  medallions 
about  three  inches  in  diameter.  Could  you  put  me  in 
possession  of  any  likeness  of  yourself  ?  —  or  would  you 
do  me  the  same  favor  in  regard  to  Mr.  Hawthorne? 
—  You  perceive  I  proceed  upon  the  ground  that  you  are 
intimate  with  Mr.  H.,  and  that  making  these  inquiries 
would  not  subject  you  to  trouble  or  inconvenience. 

I  confess  that  I  am  by  no  means  so  conversant  with 
your  own  compositions  (especially  in  prose),  as  I  should 
be.  Could  you  furnish  me  with  some  biographical  and 
critical  data,  and  tell  me  when  or  how  I  could  be  put  in 
possession  of  your  writings  generally  ?  —  but  I  fear  I  am 
asking  altogether  too  much. 

If  the  4th  number  of  "  The  Pioneer  "  is  printed,  I 
would  be  obliged  if  you  would  send  me  an  early  copy 
through  the  P.  O. 

Please  remember  me  to  Mr.  Carter,  and  believe  me 
Most  sincerely  your  friend, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 
J.  RUSSELL  LOWELL,  ESQRE. 

Before  the  "  Pioneer  "  was  discontinued,  after  its 
third  number,  Poe  had  contributed  to  it  "  The  Tell- 

1  Poe  to  Lowell.    MS. 


186  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Tale  Heart,"  the  third  of  the  tales  of  conscience ; 
"  Lenore,"  a  greatly  revised  version  of  his  old 
"  Pseaii ;  "  and  "  Notes  upon  English  Verse,"  a 
purely  metrical  discussion,  which  he  afterwards  re 
moulded  into  the  "  Rationale  of  Verse."  During 
the  same  time  he  published  in  Miss  Leslie's  an 
nual,  "The  Gift,"  for  1843,  "The  Pit  and  the 
Pendulum,"  a  tale  of  no  striking  originality ;  and 
in  "  Graham's  "  the  fine  poem  entitled  "  The  Con 
queror  Worm,"  and  "  Flaccus  "  (the  second  of  the 
series  called  "Our  Amateur  Poets"),  a  satirical 
review  of  one  Thomas  Ward,  which  he  himself  re 
garded  as  in  his  best  manner. 

Meanwhile  the  "Stylus"  had  been  abandoned, 
and  when  the  first  of  July  came  it  found  Poe  sick 
and  poor.  On  June  11  he  wrote  to  Griswold  a 
characteristic  note :  — 

DEAR  GRISWOLD  :  —  Can  you  not  send  me  $5  ?  I 
am  sick  and  Virginia  is  almost  gone.  Come  and  see  me. 
Peterson  says  you  suspect  me  of  a  curious  anonymous 
letter.  I  did  not  write  it,  but  bring  it  along  with  you 
when  you  make  the  visit  you  promised  to  Mrs.  Clemm. 
I  will  try  to  fix  that  matter  soon.  Could  you  do  any 
thing  with  my  note  ?  Yours  truly, 

E.  A.  P.1 

It  was  probably  in  response  to  this  letter  that 
Griswold  called  upon  him  at  his  home,  No.  7  Spring 
Garden,  of  which  he  gave  a  description :  — 

"  When  once  he  sent  for  me  to  visit  him,  during  a 
1  Griswold,  xx. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  187 

period  of  illness  caused  by  protracted  and  anxious  watch 
ing  at  the  side  of  his  sick  wife,  I  was  impressed  by 
the  singular  neatness  and  the  air  of  refinement  in  his 
home.  It  was  in  a  small  house,  in  one  of  the  pleasant 
and  silent  neighborhoods  far  from  the  centre  of  the  town, 
and  though  slightly  and  cheaply  furnished  everything  in 
it  was  so  tasteful  and  so  fitly  disposed  that  it  seemed  al 
together  suitable  for  a  man  of  genius.  For  this  and  for 
most  of  the  comforts  he  enjoyed,  in  his  brightest  as  in  his 
darkest  years,  he  was  chiefly  indebted  to  his  mother-in- 
law,  who  loved  him  with  more  than  maternal  devotion 
and  constancy."  1 

To  this  same  period  of  unusual  poverty  and 
suffering  Mayne  Reid's  characterization  of  Mrs. 
Clemm  probably  belongs:  — 

"  She  was  the  ever- vigilant  guardian  of  the  home, 
watching  it  against  the  silent  but  continuous  sap  of  ne 
cessity,  that  appeared  every  day  to  be  approaching  closer 
and  nearer.  She  was  the  sole  servant,  keeping  every 
thing  clean ;  the  sole  messenger,  doing  the  errands,  mak 
ing  pilgrimages  between  the  poet  and  his  publishers, 
frequently  bringing  back  such  chilling  responses  as  '  The 
article  not  accepted,'  or  'The  check  not  to  be  given 
until  such  and  such  a  day,'  —  often  too  late  for  his  ne 
cessities.  And  she  was  also  the  messenger  to  the  market ; 
from  it  bringing  back  not  '  the  delicacies  of  the  season,' 
but  only  such  commodities  as  were  called  for  by  the  dire 
exigencies  of  hunger."  2 

He  remembered  the  house  as  "  a  lean-to  of  three 

1  Grisvvold,  xxxiv. 

2  Onward,  quoted  in  the  Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle,  March  30,  1869. 


188  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

rooms  (there  may  have  been  a  garret  with  a  closet), 
of  painted  plank  construction,  supported  against  the 
gable  of  the  more  pretentious  dwelling,"  —  the  lat 
ter  being  a  four  story  red-brick  mansion  of  a  wealthy 
Quaker.  But  Mr.  T.  C.  Clarke,  whose  family  vis 
ited  the  Poes  more  or  less  frequently,  describes  it 
as  a  cottage  set  back  from  the  street  amid  luxu 
riant  grape  and  other  vines,  and  ornamented  in 
winter  with  flowers.  There  he  especially  remem 
bered  the  childish  wife,  slowly  wasting  away  in  con 
sumption,  but  "  wearing  on  her  beautiful  counte 
nance  the  smile  of  resignation,  and  the  warm,  even 
cheerful  look  with  which  she  ever  greeted  her 
friends."  1  The  appearance  of  the  house,  however, 
and  the  simple  hospitality  which  he  and  Mayne 
Reid  and  others  enjoyed  in  it,  must  have  varied 
materially  with  the  rapacity  of  the  pawnbroker ; 
and  it  is  said  that  the  family  now  became  the  ob 
ject  of  charity. 

The  principal  income  during  these  trying  months 
was  the  one-hundred-dollar  prize  received  by  Poe 
from  "  The  Dollar  Newspaper,"  edited  by  Joseph 
Sailer,  for  the  story  of  "  The  Gold  Bug,"  which  he 
had  recovered  from  Graham  by  exchanging  a  crit 
ical  article  for  it,  and  had  sent  in  to  the  judges. 
This,  the  most  widely  circulated  of  his  tales,  was 
published  in  two  parts  :  the  first  June  21,  1843,  and 
the  second  (together  with  the  first,  which  was  re 
printed)  a  week  later.  On  July  12  it  was  pub- 
i  Gill,  p.  101. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  189 

lished  again  with  two  other  prize  tales  in  a  supple 
ment.  A  charge  that  it  was  plagiarized  from  Miss 
Sherburne's  "  Imogene,  or  The  Pirate's  Treasure," 
was  made  in  "  The  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  and  was 
widely  circulated,  but  a  refutation  was  quickly  at 
tempted  in  "The  Dollar  Newspaper,"  July  19.  The 
only  other  stories  of  Poe's  published  during  this 
year  were  the  fearful  tale  of  "The  Black  Cat"  in 
the  "United  States  Saturday  Post"  (as  the  old 
"  Saturday  Evening  Post"  was  now  called),  August 
19,  and  "  Morning  on  the  Wissahiccon,"  a  quiet 
landscape  sketch  of  the  environs  of  Philadelphia 
(evidently  "  The  Elk,"  mentioned  hereafter),  con 
tributed  to  Willis's  annual,  "  The  Opal,"  for  1844. 
In  criticism  he  published  three  reviews,  all  in 
"  Graham's  :  "  one,  perhaps  the  most  contemptuous 
he  ever  wrote,  on  William  Ellery  Channing,  the 
transcendentalist  poet,  being  the  third  of  the  series 
"  Our  Amateur  Poets  ;  "  one  on  Fitz-Greene  Hal- 
leek,  being  No.  viii.  of  "Our  Contributors,"  a  series 
of  which  the  plan  seems  to  have  been  taken  from 
that  projected  by  Poe  for  the  "  Stylus  ;  "  and  one  of 
a  perfunctory  kind  on  Cooper's  "  Wyandotte."  In 
the  fall  an  edition  of  his  "  Tales,"  in  parts,  was  un 
dertaken,  but  only  one  issue,  containing  "  The  Mur 
ders  of  the  Rue  Morgue "  and  "The  Man  who  was 
Used  Up,"  is  known.1 

Poe  still  interested  himself  from  time  to  time  in 
the  solution  of  cryptographs,  an  occupation  which 

1  The  New  Mirror,  September,  1843. 


190  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

the  following  letter,  with  its  side-lights  upon  other 
topics,  sufficiently  illustrates  :  — 

PHILA.,  Aug.  28,  1843. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  I  have  just  recd  your  letter,  en 
closing  one  in  hieroglyphical  writing  from  Mr.  Meek, 
and  hasten  to  reply,  since  you  desire  it ;  although,  some 
months  ago,  I  was  obliged  to  make  a  vow  that  I  would 
engage  in  the  solution  of  no  more  cryptographs.  The 
reason  of  my  making  this  vow  will  be  readily  understood. 
Much  curiosity  was  excited  throughout  the  country  by 
my  solutions  of  these  cyphers,  and  a  great  number  of 
persons  felt  a  desire  to  test  my  powers  individually  — 
so  that  I  was  at  one  time  absolutely  overwhelmed ;  and 
this  placed  me  in  a  dilemma ;  for  I  had  either  to  devote 
my  whole  time  to  the  solutions,  or  the  correspondents 
would  suppose  me  a  mere  boaster,  incapable  of  fulfilling 
my  promises.  I  had  no  alternative  but  to  solve  all ;  but 
to  each  correspondent  I  made  known  my  intentions  to 
solve  no  more.  You  will  hardly  believe  me  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  have  lost,  in  time,  which  to  me  is  money,  more 
than  a  thousand  dollars,  in  solving  ciphers,  with  no  other 
object  in  view  than  that  just  mentioned.  A  really  diffi 
cult  cipher  requires  vast  labor  and  the  most  patient 
thought  in  its  solution.  Mr.  Meek's  letter  is  very  simple 
indeed,  and  merely  shows  that  he  misapprehends  the 
whole  matter.  It  runs  thus  :  — 

[Here  follows  the  solution.] 

This  is  the  whole  of  Mr.  Meek's  letter  —  but  he  is 
mistaken  in  supposing  that  I  "  pride  myself  "  upon  my 
solutions  of  ciphers.  I  feel  little  pride  about  anything. 

It  is  very  true,  as  he  says,  that  cypher  writing  is  "  no 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  191 

great  difficulty  if  the  signs  represent  invariably  the  same 
letters  and  are  divided  into  separate  words."  But  the 
fact  is,  that  most  of  the  criptographs  sent  to  me  (Dr. 
Frailey's  for  instance)  were  not  divided  into  words,  and 
moreover,  the  signs  never  represented  the  same  letter 
twice. 

But  here  is  an  infallible  mode  of  showing  Mr.  Meek 
that  he  knows  nothing  about  the  matter.  He  says  cipher, 
writing  "is  no  great  difficulty  if  the  signs  represent  inva 
riably  the  same  letters  and  are  divided  into  separate 
words."  This  is  true  ;  and  yet,  little  as  this  difficulty  is, 
he  cannot  surmount  it.  Send  him,  as  if  from  yourself^ 
these  few  words,  in  which  the  conditions  stated  by  him 
are  rigidly  preserved.  I  will  answer  for  it,  he  cannot 
decipher  them  for  his  life.  They  are  taken  at  random 
from  a  well-known  work  now  lying  beside  me :  — 
[Here  follows  Poe's  cryptograph.] 

And  now,  my  dear  friend,  have  you  forgotten  that 
I  asked  you,  some  time  since,  to  render  me  an  important 
favor  ?  You  can  surely  have  no  scruples  in  a  case  of  this1 
kind.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  I  have  been  maligned 
by  some  envious  scoundrel  in  this  city,  who  has  written 
you  a  letter  respecting  myself.  I  believe  I  know  the 
villain's  name.  It  is  Wilmer.  In  Philadelphia  no  one 
speaks  to  him.  He  is  avoided  by  all  as  a  reprobate  of 
the  lowest  class.  Feeling  a  deep  pity  for  him,  I  endeav 
oured  to  befriend  him,  and  you  remember  that  I  rendered 
myself  liable  to  some  censure  by  writing  a  review  of  his 
filthy  pamphlet  called  the  "Quacks  of  Helicon."  He 
has  returned  my  good  offices  by  slander  behind  my  back. 
All  here  are  anxious  to  have  him  convicted  —  for  there 
is  scarcely  a  gentleman  in  Philaa  whom  he  has  not  libelled, 


192  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

through  the  gross  malignity  of  his  nature.     Now,  I  ask 
you,  as  a  friend  and  as  a  man  of  noble  feelings,  to  send 
me  his  letter  to  you.     It  is  your  duty  to  do  this  —  and  I 
am  sure,  upon  reflection,  you  will  so  regard  it. 
I  await  your  answer  impatiently. 

Your  friend,  E.  A.  PoE.1 

Wilmer  probably  ill  deserved  this  tirade,  since, 
after  Poe's  death,  he  was  one  of  his  most  faithful 
defenders.  Scandal,  however,  was  busy  with  Poe's 
name,  and  found  its  way  into  print  in  one  of  the 
city  papers,  in  an  article  of  which  Poe  suspected 
Griswold  to  be  the  author.  There  is  some  evi 
dence,  as  will  be  seen  later  on,  that  he  visited  Sar 
atoga  this  summer ;  but  the  illness  of  himself  and 
his  wife,  and  the  poverty  of  the  family,  together 
with  his  seemingly  uninterrupted  employment  in 
Philadelphia,  go  to  discredit  the  story. 

After  the  fall  came,  the  only  information  concern 
ing  him  at  this  obscure  period  "is  derived  from  his 
letters  to  Lowell :  — 

PHILADELPHIA,  Oct.  19,  1843. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

I  was  upon  the  point  of  fulfilling  a  long  neglected 
duty  and  replying  to  Mr.  Carter's  letter,  enclosing  $5, 
when  I  received  yours  of  the  13th,  remitting  $5  more. 
Believe  me  I  am  sincerely  grateful  to  you  both  for  your 
uniform  kindness  and  consideration. 

You  say  nothing  of  your  health  —  but  Mr.  C.  speaks  of 
its  perfect  restoration,  and  I  see,  by  your  very  MS.,  that 
you  are  well  again,  body  and  mind.  I  need  not  say  that 
1  Poe  to  John  Tomlin,  Esq.  MS. 


7.2V  PHILADELPHIA.  193 

I  am  rejoiced  at  this  —  for  you  must  know  and  feel  that 
I  am.  "When  I  thought  of  the  possible  loss  of  your  eye 
sight,  I  grieved  as  if  some  dreadful  misfortune  were 
about  happening  to  myself. 

I  shall  look  with  much  anxiety  for  your  promised  vol 
ume.  Will  it  include  your  "  Year's  Life,"  and  other 
poems  already  published  ?  I  hope  that  it  may ;  for  these 
have  not  yet  been  fairly  placed  before  the  eye  of  the 
world.  I  am  seeking  an  opportunity  to  do  you  justice  in 
a  review,  and  may  find  it  in  "  Graham,"  when  your  book 
appears.  No  poet  in  America  has  done  so  much.  I 
have  maintained  this  upon  all  occasions.  Mr.  Longfel 
low  has  genius,  but  by  no  means  equals  you  in  the  true 
spirit.  He  is  moreover  so  prone  to  imitation  that  I  know 
not  how  to  understand  him  at  times.  I  am  in  doubt 
whether  he  should  not  be  termed  an  arrant  plagiarist. 
You  have  read  his  "  Spanish  Student "  ?  I  have  written 
quite  a  long  notice  of  it  for  Graham's  December  number. 
The  play  is  a  poor  composition,  with  some  fine  poet 
ical  passages.  His  "  Hymn  to  the  Night,"  with  some 
strange  blemishes,  is  glorious.  — How  much  I  should 
like  to  interchange  opinions  with  you  upon  poems  and 
poets  in  general !  I  fancy  that  we  should  agree,  usually, 
in  results,  while  differing,  frequently,  about  principles. 
The  day  may  come  when  we  can  discuss  everything  at 
leisure,  in  person. 

You  say  that  your  long  poem  has  taught  you  a  useful 
lesson,  —  "  that  you  are  unfit  to  write  narrative  —  unless 
in  a  dramatic  form."  It  is  not  you  that  are  unfit  for 
the  task  —  but  the  task  for  you  —  for  any  poet.  Poetry 
must  eschew  narrative  —  except,  as  you  say,  dramatic 
ally.  I  mean  to  say  that  the  true  poetry  —  the  highest 
13 

^5^v^ 


194  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

poetry  —  must  eschew  it.  The  Iliad  is  not  the  highest. 
The  connecting  links  of  a  narrative  —  the  frequent  pas 
sages  which  have  to  serve  the  purpose  of  binding  together 
the  parts  of  the  story,  are  necessarily  prose,  from  their 
very  explanatory  nature.  To  color  them  —  to  gloss  over 
their  prosaic  nature  —  (for  this  is  the  most  which  can 
be  done)  requires  great  skill.  Thus  Byron,  who  was  no 
artist,  is  always  driven,  in  his  narrative,  to  fragmentary 
passages,  eked  out  with  asterisks.  Moore  succeeds  bet 
ter  than  any  one.  His  "  Alciphron  "  is  wonderful  in  the 
force,  grace,  and  nature  of  its  purely  narrative  passages : 
—  but  pardon  me  for  prosing. 

I  send  you  the  paper  with  my  life  and  portrait.  The 
former  is  true  in  general  —  the  latter  particularly  false. 
It  does  not  convey  the  faintest  idea  of  my  person.  No 
one  of  my  family  recognized  it.  But  this  is  a  point  of 
little  importance.  You  will  see,  upon  the  back  of  the 
biography,  an  announcement  that  I  was  to  assume  the 
editorship  of  the  "  Museum."  This  was  unauthorized. 
I  never  did  edit  it.  The  review  of  "  Graham's  Maga 
zine  "  was  written  by  H.  B.  Hirst  —  a  young  poet  of  this 
city.  Who  is  to  write  your  life  for  "  Graham  ?  "  It  is 
a  pity  that  so  many  of  these  biographies  were  entrusted 
to  Mr.  Griswold.  He  certainly  lacks  independence,  or 
judgment,  or  both. 

I  have  tried  in  vain  to  get  a  copy  of  your  "  Year's 
Life  "  in  Philadelphia.  If  you  have  one,  and  could  spare 
it,  I  would  be  much  obliged. 

Do  write  me  again  when  you  have  leisure,  and  be 
lieve  me,  Your  most  sincere  friend, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

J.  E.  LOWELL,  ESQRE. 

1  Poe  to  Lowell.    MS. 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  195 

At  some  time  during  the  summer  Poe  is  said  to 
have  made  his  debut  as  a  lecturer  in  the  "  Egyptian 
Hall,"  Baltimore.  He  appeared  in  Philadelphia  in 
the  same  role,  November  25,  and  made  a  favora 
ble  impression.  His  subject  was  "  The  Poets  and 
Poetry  of  America,"  and,  while  the  lecture  was 
largely  compiled  from  his  former  book-reviews,  it 
was  especially  distinguished  by  an  attack,  which 
seems  to  have  been  unusually  severe,  on  Gris- 
wold's  volume.  At  some  time  before  this  date,  and 
probably  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  year,  there 
had  appeared  in  the  "  Saturday  Museum  "  an  anon 
ymous  review  of  the  third  edition  of  Griswold's 
work,  in  which  that  reverend  gentleman  was  held 
up  to  public  ridicule  in  the  most  scoffing  and  bitter 
style,  and  contrasted  with  Poe  by  name,  much  to 
the  latter's  praise  and  to  his  own  degradation. 
This  mingled  expression  of  pique,  wrath,  and  scorn, 
with  its  flaunting  self -commendation,  is  indubitably 
Poe's  own  work,  but  as  it  was  unacknowledged 
Griswold  had  no  plain  ground  for  a  personal  quar 
rel.  About  the  utterances  of  the  lecture,  however, 
he  could  have  no  doubt,  and  the  flagellation  he  re 
ceived  in  it,  which  does  not  seem  to  have  displeased 
his  literary  associates,  caused  an  open  breach  be 
tween  himself  and  Poe  that  was  not  closed,  even  in 
appearance,  until  a  year  and  a  half  had  elapsed. 
It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Griswold  had  left  his 
place  on  "  Graham's"  about  two  months  before  the 
delivery  of  the  address. 


196  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

The  receipts  from  the  new  profession  of  lecturing 
could  not  have  been  large,  and  for  one  cause  or  an 
other  the  editors  who  were  accustomed  to  publish 
Poe's  work  either  would  not  buy  it,  or  else  delayed 
to  print  it.  After  Griswold's  retirement  from 
"  Graham's,"  Poe  seems  to  have  held  during  the 
winter  the  post  of  assistant  to  Graham,  by  far  the 
larger  part  of  the  reviews  being  from  his  hand.  In 
March,  1844,  appeared  his  only  signed  article  for 
several  months  past,  a  lengthy  review  of  the  drama, 
"  Orion,"  by  Eichard  Hengist  Home,  recently  pub 
lished  in  England.  Of  this  work,  which  appealed 
strongly  to  Poe's  delight  in  pictorial  fancy  and 
subdued  mystical  suggestion,  he  declared,  "It  is 
our  deliberate  opinion  that  in  all  that  regards  the 
loftiest  and  holiest  attributes  of  the  true  Poetry, 
4  Orion '  has  never  been  excelled.  Indeed,  we  feel 
strongly  inclined  to  say  that  it  has  never  been 
equaled"  After  comparing  one  passage  of  it  with 
Milton's  description  of  hell,  the  latter  being  "  al 
together  inferior  in  graphic  effect,  in  originality, 
in  expression,  in  the  true  imagination,"  he  con 
cludes  more  calmly  that  "  '  Orion  '  will  be  admitted, 
by  every  man  of  genius,  to  be  one  of  the  noblest, 
if  not  the  very  noblest  poetical  work  of  the  age."  l 

Whether  or  not  Poe  had  been  taken  back  by 
Graham  to  be  his  unacknowledged  assistant,  he 
had  now  formed  a  new  scheme,  which  is  as  fine  a 
piece  of  literary  visionariness  as  was  ever  elabo- 

1   Works,  ii.  437-444. 


7^  PHILADELPHIA.  197 

rated  by  a  penniless  author.  He  unfolds  it  in  the 
following  letter  to  Lowell,  which  also  contains 
other  matter  of  contemporary  interest. 

PHILADELPHIA,  March  30,  1844. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

Graham  has  been  speaking  to  me,  lately,  about  your 
Biography,  and  I  am  anxious  to  write  it  at  once,  always 
provided  you  have  no  objection.  Could  you  forward  me 
the  materials  within  a  day  or  two  ?  I  am  just  now  quite 
disengaged  —  in  fact  positively  idle. 

I  presume  you  have  read  the  Memoir  of  Willis,  in 
the  April  number  of  G.  It  is  written  by  a  Mr.  Landor 

—  but  I  think  it  full  of  hyperbole.     Willis  is  no  genius 

—  a  graceful  trifler  —  no  more.     He  wants  force  and 
sincerity.     He  is  very  frequently  far-fetched.    In  me,  at 
least,   he  never  excites  an  emotion.     Perhaps  the  best 
poem  he  has  written  is  a  little  piece  called    "  Unseen 
Spirits,"  beginning  "  The  Shadows  lay  —  Along  Broad 
way." 

You  inquire  about  my  own  portrait.  It  has  been  done 
for  some  time  —  but  is  better  as  an  engraving,  than  as  a 
portrait.  It  scarcely  resembles  me  at  all.  When  it  will 
appear  I  cannot  say.  Conrad  and  Mrs.  Stephens  will 
certainly  come  before  me  —  perhaps  Gen.  Morris.  My 
Life  is  not  yet  written,  and  I  am  at  a  sad  loss  for  a  Bi 
ographer  —  for  Graham  insists  upon  leaving  the  matter 
to  myself. 

I  sincerely  rejoice  to  hear  of  the  success  of  your 
volume.  To  sell  eleven  hundred  copies  of  a  bound  book 
of  American  poetry,  is  to  do  wonders.  I  hope  every 
thing  from  your  future  endeavors.  Have  you  read 
'*  Orion  ?  "  Have  you  seen  the  article  on  "  American 


198  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Poetry  "  in  the  "  London  Foreign  Quarterly  ?  "  It  has 
been  denied  that  Dickens  wrote  it  —  but,  to  me,  the  ar 
ticle  affords  so  strong  internal  evidence  of  his  hand  that 
I  would  as  soon  think  of  doubting  my  existence.  He  tells 
much  truth  —  although  he  evinces  much  ignorance  and 
more  spleen.  Among  other  points  he  accuses  myself  of 
"  metrical  imitation  "  of  Tennyson,  citing,  by  way  of  in 
stance,  passages  from  poems  which  were  written  and 
published  by  me  long  before  Tennyson  was  heard  of  :  — 
but  I  have  at  no  time  made  any  poetical  pretention.  I 
am  greatly  indebted  for  the  trouble  you  have  taken  about 
the  lectures,  and  shall  be  very  glad  to  avail  myself,  next 
season,  of  any  invitation  from  the  "  Boston  Lyceum." 
Thank  you,  also,  for  the  hint  about  the  North  American 
Review  ;  —  I  will  bear  it  in  mind.  I  mail  you,  herewith, 
a  "  Dollar  Newspaper,"  containing  a  somewhat  extrava 
gant  tale  of  my  own.  I  fear  it  will  prove  little  to  your 
taste. 

How  dreadful  is  the  present  condition  of  our  Liter 
ature  !  To  what  are  things  tending  ?  We  want  two 
things,  certainly :  —  an  International  Copy-Right  Law, 
and  a  well-founded  Monthly  Journal,  of  sufficient  ability, 
circulation,  and  character,  to  control  and  so  give  tone  to, 
our  Letters.  It  should  be,  externally,  a  specimen  of  high, 
but  not  too  refined  Taste  :  —  I  mean,  it  should  be  boldly 
printed,  on  excellent  paper,  in  single  column,  and  be  il 
lustrated,  not  merely  embellished,  by  spirited  wood  de 
signs  in  the  style  of  Grandville.  Its  chief  aims  should 
be  Independence,  Truth,  Originality.  It  should  be  a 
journal  of  some  120  pp,  and  furnished  at  $5.  It  should 
have  nothing  to  do  with  Agents  or  Agencies.  Such  a 
Magazine  might  be  made  to  exercise  a  prodigious  in- 


IN  PHILADELPHIA.  199 

fluence,  and  would  be  a  source  of  vast  wealth  to  its  pro 
prietors.  There  can  be  no  reason  why  100,000  copies 
might  not,  in  one  or  two  *years,  be  circulated ;  but  the 
means  of  bringing  it  into  circulation  should  be  radically 
different  from  those  usually  employed. 

Such  a  journal  might,  perhaps,  be  set  on  foot  by  a 
coalition,  and,  thus  set  on  foot,  with  proper  understand 
ing,  would  be  irresistible.  Suppose,  for  example,  that 
the  elite  of  our  men  of  letters  should  combine  secretly. 
Many  of  them  control  papers,  &c.  Let  each  subscribe, 
say  $200,  for  the  commencement  of  the  undertaking; 
furnishing  other  means,  as  required  from  time  to  time, 
until  the  work  be  established.  The  articles  to  be  sup 
plied  by  the  members  solely,  and  upon  a  concerted  plan 
of  action.  A  nominal  editor  to  be  elected  from  among 
the  number.  How  could  such  a  journal  fail  ?  I  would 
like  very  much  to  hear  your  opinion  upon  this  matter. 
Could  not  the  "  ball  be  set  in  motion  ?  "  If  we  do  not 
defend  ourselves  by  some  such  coalition,  we  shall  be  de 
voured,  without  mercy,  by  the  Godeys,  the  Snowdens, 
et  id  genus  omne. 

Most  truly  your  friend, 

EDGAR  A.  Pos.1 

The  next  week  after  writing  this  letter  Poe  put 
in  execution  what  seems  a  very  sudden  determina 
tion  to  leave  Philadelphia.  Possibly  the  discon 
tinuance  of  his  undefined  connection  with  "  Gra 
ham's,"  which  now  took  place,  finally  discouraged 
him ;  but  whatever  was  the  immediate  occasion  of 
his  decision,  looking  back  over  the  five  years  of  his 
i  Poe  to  Lowell.  MS. 


200  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

life  in  that  city,  with  its  delusively  brilliant  open 
ings  and  sharp  reverses  of  fortune,  he  must  have 
felt  that  he  obeyed  the  dictates  of  worldly  prudence 
in  deserting  a  scene  where  his  repeated  failures  and 
their  causes  were  well  known  to  the  whole  literary 
fraternity.  He  seems  to  have  broken  up  his  home 
at  the  cottage  before  this  time,  and  he  had  not  much 
more  than  ten  dollars  in  his  pocket  when  he  left. 
Mrs.  Clemm  remained  behind  to  sell  his  books  and 
settle  up  affairs,  and  with  Virginia  he  went  to  New 
York,  apparently  with  no  more  definite  a  view  than 
to  make  a  new  start  in  a  new  community. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN   NEW   YORK. 

POE'S  account  of  his  departure  is  given  in  a  let 
ter  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  which  stands  by  itself  in  his 
correspondence  as  of  a  purely  domestic  kind,  illus 
trative  of  life  within  doors,  and  (the  more  forcibly 
by  its  indirectness)  of  the  penury  to  which  at  times 
the  family  was  accustomed.  Its  confiding  and  fa 
miliar  tone  explains  somewhat,  too,  how  he  won  the 
devotion  of  his  mother-in-law  to  that  degree  which 
has  secured  for  her  the  admiration  of  all  who  were 
intimately  acquainted  with  Poe's  home  life. 

(  NEW  YORK,  Sunday  Morning, 
\   April  7,  just  after  breakfast. 

MY  DEAR  MUDDY, 

We  have  just  this  minute  done  breakfast,  and  I  now  sit 
down  to  write  you  about  everything.  I  can't  pay  for  the 
letter,  because  the  P.  O.  won't  be  open  to-day.  In  the 
first  place  we  arrived  safe  at  Walnut  St.  wharf.  The 
driver  wanted  to  make  me  pay  a  dollar,  but  I  would  n't. 
Then  I  had  to  pay  a  boy  a  levy  to  put  the  trunks  in  the 
baggage  car.  In  the  meantime  I  took  Sis  [Virginia]  in 
the  Depot  Hotel.  It  was  only  a  quarter  past  six,  and 
we  had  to  wait  till  seven.  We  saw  the  Ledger  and 
Times  —  nothing  in  either  —  a  few  words  of  no  account 


202  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

in  the  Chronicle.  We  started  in  good  spirits,  but  did 
not  get  here  until  nearly  three  o'clock.  We  went  in 
the  cars  to  Amboy,  about  forty  miles  from  N.  York,  and 
then  took  the  steamboat  the  rest  of  the  way.  Sissy 
coughed  none  at  all.  When  we  got  to  the  wharf  it  was 
raining  hard.  I  left  her  on  board  the  boat,  after  putting 
the  trunks  in  the  Ladies'  cabin,  and  set  off  to  buy  an 
umbrella  and  look  for  a  boarding-house.  I  met  a  man 
selling  umbrellas,  and  bought  one  for  twenty-five  cents. 
Then  I  went  up  Greenwich  St.  and  soon  found  a  board 
ing  house.  It  is  just  before  you  get  to  Cedar  St.,  on 
the  west  side  going  up  —  the  left-hand  side.  It  has 
brown  stone  steps,  with  a  porch  with  brown  pillars. 
"  Morrison  "  is  the  name  on  the  door.  I  made  a  bargain 
in  a  few  minutes  and  then  got  a  hack  and  went  for  Sis. 
I  was  not  gone  more  than  half  an  hour,  and  she  was 
quite  astonished  to  see  me  back  so  soon.  She  didn't 
expect  me  for  an  hour.  There  were  two  other  ladies 
waiting  on  board  —  so  she  was  n't  very  lonely.  When 
we  got  to  the  house  we  had  to  wait  about  half  an  hour 
before  the  room  was  ready.  The  house  is  old  and  looks 
buggy  [The  letter  is  cut  here  for  the  signature  on  the 
other  side.]  the  cheapest  board  I  ever  knew,  taking 
into  consideration  the  central  situation  and  the  living. 
I  wish  Kate  [Catterina,  the  cat]  could  see  it  —  she 
would  faint.  Last  night,  for  supper,  we  had  the  nicest 
tea  you  ever  drank,  strong  and  hot  —  wheat  bread  and 
rye  bread  —  cheese — tea-cakes  (elegant),  a  great  dish 
(two  dishes)  of  elegant  ham,  and  two  of  cold  veal,  piled 
up  like  a  mountain  and  large  slices  —  three  dishes  of 
the  cakes  and  everything  in  the  greatest  profusion.  No 
fear  of  starving  here.  The  landlady  seemed  as  if  she 


IN  NEW   YORK.  203 

could  n't  press  us  enough,  and  we  were  at  home  directly. 
Her  husband  is  living  with  her  —  a  fat,  good-natured  old 
soul.  There  are  eight  or  ten  boarders  —  two  or  three  of 
them  ladies  —  two  servants.  For  breakfast  we  had  ex 
cellent-flavored  coffee,  hot  and  strong  —  not  very  clear 
and  no  great  deal  of  cream  —  veal  cutlets,  elegant  ham 
and  eggs  and  nice  bread  and  butter.  I  never  sat  down 
to  a  more  plentiful  or  a  nicer  breakfast.  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  the  eggs  —  and  the  great  dishes  of 
meat.  I  ate  the  first  hearty  breakfast  I  have  eaten 
since  I  left  our  little  home.  Sis  is  delighted,  and  we 
are  both  in  excellent  spirits.  She  has  coughed  hardly 
any  and  had  no  night  sweat.  She  is  now  busy  mending 
my  pants  which  I  tore  against  a  nail.  I  went  out  last 
night  and  bought  a  skein  of  silk,  a  skein  of  thread, 
two  buttons,  a  pair  of  slippers,  and  a  tin  pan  for  the 
stove.  The  fire  kept  in  all  night.  We  have  now  got 
four  dollars  and  a  half  left.  To-morrow  I  am  going  to 
try  and  borrow  three  dollars,  so  that  I  may  have  a 
fortnight  to  go  upon.  I  feel  in  excellent  spirits,  and 
have  n't  drank  a  drop  —  so  that  I  hope  soon  to  get  out 
of  trouble.  The  very  instant  I  scrape  together  enough 
money  I  will  send  it  on.  You  can't  imagine  how  much 
we  both  do  miss  you.  Sissy  had  a  hearty  cry  last  night, 
because  you  and  Catterina  were  n't  here.  We  are  re 
solved  to  get  two  rooms  the  first  moment  we  can.  In 
the  mean  time  it  is  impossible  we  could  be  more  comfort 
able  or  more  at  home  than  we  are.  It  looks  as  if  it  were 
going  to  clear  up  now.  Be  sure  and  go  to  the  P.  0. 
and  have  my  letters  forwarded.  As  soon  as  I  write 
Lowell's  article,  I  will  send  it  to  you,  and  get  you  to  get 
the  money  from  Graham.  Give  our  best  love  to  C. 
[Signature  cut  out.] 


204  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Be  sure  and  take  home  the  "Messenger  "  to  Hirst 
We  hope  to  send  for  you  very  soon.1 

The  postscript  of  this  letter,  —  "  Be  sure  and  take 
home  the  'Messenger '  to  Hirst,"  — though  a  matter 
of  the  most  trifling  detail,  is  worth  explanation, 
since  the  circumstance  to  which  it  relates  is  yet  re 
membered  to  Poe's  discredit  in  Philadelphia,  while 
the  whole  paltry  affair  furnishes  a  capital  illustra 
tion  of  the  mean  though  natural  misconstruction 
to  which  he  was  sometimes  exposed.  The  story  is 
completely  told  in  the  following  papers.  Willis 
Duane,  to  whom  the  letters  are  addressed,  was  at 
one  time  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

NEW  YORK,  Oct.  28,  '44. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, 

Owing  to  my  absence  from  this  city,  (where  I  am  now 
residing)  I  did  not  receive  your  letter  of  the  15th  until 
this  morning. 

I  regret  exceedingly  that  circumstances  should  have 
led  you  to  think  me  negligent,  or  uncourteous,  in  not  re 
turning  the  volume  of  the  "Messenger" — for  one  or 
the  other  (perhaps  both)  you  must  long  since  have  con 
sidered  me.  The  facts  are  these :  Some  eight  months 
ago,  I  believe,  I  chanced  to  mention,  in  Mr.  Hirst's  hear 
ing,  that  I  wished  to  look  over  a  particular  article  in  the 
"  Messenger."  He  immediately  volunteered  to  procure 
me  the  desired  volume  from  you.  I  would  much  rather 
have  borrowed  it  personally  —  but  he  seemed  to  make  a 
point  of  the  matter  and  I  consented.  Soon  afterwards 
he  handed  me  the  book,  which  I  retained  a  very  short 
1  Poe  to  Mrs.  Clemm.  MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  205 

time.  It  is  now  certainly  more  than  seven  months  since 
I  returned  it  to  Mr.  Hirst,  through  my  mother-in-law 
(Mrs.  Clemm)  who  informs  me  that  she  left  it  at  his 
office,  with  one  of  his  brothers.  Most  probably  it  was 
deposited  in  a  book-case,  and  thus  overlooked  and  for 
gotten.  May  I  trouble  you  to  send  for  it. 

Very  truly  yours,  „ 

EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 
WILLIS  DUANE,  ESQR. 

Endorsed  by  Duane :  N.  B.  The  statement  con 
tained  in  this  letter  that  the  volume  of  "  The  Southern 
Literary  Messenger  "  in  question  was  returned  to  Henry 
B.  Hirst,  Esqr.  was  pronounced  by  Mr.  Hirst  to  be  "a 
damned  lie,"  and  subsequent  events  showed  that  Mr. 
Hirst  was  right  in  denying  it  —  Mr.  Poe  having  sold  the 
book  —  I  hope  unintentionally  —  to  William  A.  Leary, 
the  bookseller  on  Second  St. 

W.  D. 

NEW  YORK,  Jan.  28,  '45. 

SIR, 

Richmond  is  the  last  place  in  which  I  should  have 
hoped  to  find  a  copy  of  either  the  1st,  2d,  or  3d  volumes 
of  the  "  Messenger."  For  this  reason  I  did  not  apply 
there.  I  have  [been]  putting  myself,  however,  to  some 
trouble  in  endeavoring  to  collect  among  my  friends  here 
the  separate  numbers  of  the  missing  volume.  I  am  glad 
that  your  last  letter  relieves  me  from  all  such  trouble  in 
future.  I  do  not  choose  to  recognize  you  in  this  matter 
at  all.  To  the  person  of  whom  I  borrowed  the  book,  or 
rather  who  insisted  on  forcing  it  on  me,  I  have  sufficient 
reason  to  believe  that  it  was  returned.  Settle  your  diffi- 


206  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

culties  with  him,  and  insult  me  with  no  more  of  your 
communications. 

EDGAR  A.  POE. 
MR.  DUANE. 

Endorsed  by  Duane  :  Bombastes  Furioso  Poe.  Dated 
January  28,  1845.  Received  January  31,  1845.  Not  to 
be  answered.  N.  B.  The  volume  of  "  The  Southern  Liter 
ary  Messenger  "  to  which  this  letter,  and  that  of  October 
28,  1844,  refer,  was  lent  by  me  to  E.  A.  Poe,  through 
Henry  B.  Hirst,  Esq.,  and  was  sold  by  the  said  Poe 
among  a  lot  of  books  belonging  to  himself  to  William 
A.  Leary,  a  bookseller  on  North  Seventh  Street.  Mr. 
Leary  sold  it  to  a  bookseller  in  Richmond,  Va.,  who  sold 
it  to  the  publishers  of  the  "  Messenger,"  who  sold  it  to  a 
friend  of  mine  who  was  visiting  Richmond,  and  whom  I 
had  commissioned  to  purchase  me  a  copy.  My  name 
was  on  the  title  page  during  all  these  sales. 

Poe  had  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  of  himself,  when 
he  heard  of  the  manner  in  which  I  had  had  to  repurchase 
my  own  book.  He  remarked  to  H.  B.  Hirst,  Esqr., 
"  What  must  Mr.  Duane  think  of  me,"  on  hearing  of 
which,  I  sent  him  word  that  I  thought  he  ought  to  send 
me  the  five  dollars  which  the  repurchase  had  cost  me. 
He  died  without  doing  so,  I  suppose  from  inability. 

W.  D.1 

Poe's  innocence  in  the  matter  seems  to  be  proved 
by  the  postscript  to  Mrs.  Clemrn,  nor  is  there  any 
reason  to  believe  that  the  original  mistake,  by 
which  the  volume  was  included  in  the  sale  of  Poe's 
books,  was  anything  but  a  natural  blunder  made 
1  Poe  to  Duane.  MSS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  207 

in  the  confusion  of  the  removal,  —  one,  however, 
which  Mrs.  Clemm,  probably  out  of  short-sighted 
regard  for  Poe's  feelings,  may  have  been  unwilling 
to  acknowledge. 

Poe's  first  business  in  New  York  after  he  got 
settled  was  presumably  to  call  on  the  editor  of 
"  The  Sun,"  and  offer  him  the  well-known  "  Balloon 
Hoax."  At  least  on  the  following  Saturday,  April 
13,  "  The  Sun  "  contained  a  postscript,  in  double- 
leaded  type,  announcing  that  a  balloon  had  crossed 
the  Atlantic,  bringing  news,  and  had  arrived  at 
Charleston,  S.  C.,  and  promising  that  an  extra,  giv 
ing  full  particulars,  should  be  issued  at  ten  o'clock 
on  that  morning.  The  extra  duly  appeared,  with 
its  narrative,  in  Poe's  usual  realistic  manner,  of  a 
transatlantic  voyage  by  a  party  of  English  aero 
nauts  ;  and  at  a  time  when  such  journalistic  fictions 
were  more  common  and  less  easily  detected  than 
now,  it  achieved  a  momentary  success.  In  the  same 
month  appeared  the  picturesque  story  of  metemp 
sychosis,  "  A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains,"  in 
"  Godey's  Lady's  Book."  No  other  publications 
during  this  spring,  except  the  poem  "  Dreamland  " 
in  "  Graham's  "  for  June,  have  been  traced. 

The  only  direct  source  of  information  regarding 
Poe  during  these  first  months  in  New  York  is  his 
correspondence  with  Lowell,  who  now  offered  to 
write  his  life  for  the  series,  "  Our  Contributors," 
then  appearing  in  "  Graham's."  Poe  replied  as 
follows :  — 


208  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

NEW  YORK,  May  28,  '44. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

I  received  yours  last  night,  forwarded  from  Phila 
delphia  to  this  city,  where  I  intend  living  for  the  future. 
Touching  the  Biography  —  I  would  be  very  proud,  in 
deed,  if  you  would  write  it,  and  did,  certainly,  say  to 
myself,  and  I  believe  to  Graham  —  that  such  was  my 
wish  ;  but  as  I  fancied  the  job  might  be  disagreeable,  I 
did  not  venture  to  suggest  it  to  yourself.  Your  offer 
relieves  me  from  great  embarrassment,  and  I  thank  you 
sincerely.  You  will  do  me  justice  ;  and  that  I  could 
not  expect  at  all  hands. 

Herewith,  I  mail  you  a  Life  written  some  time  since 
by  Hirst,  from  materials  furnished  principally  by  Thomas 
and  Mr.  T.  W.  White.  It  is  correct,  I  think,  in  the 
main  (barring  extravagant  eulogy),  and  you  can  select 
from  it  whatever  you  deem  right.  The  limit  is  6  pp. 
of  Graham  —  as  much  less  as  you  please.  Besides  the 
Tales  enumerated  in  the  foot-note,  I  have  written  "  The 
Spectacles;"  "The  Oblong  Box;"  "A  Tale  of  the 
Ragged  Mountains  ;  "  "  The  Premature  Burial  ;  " 
"  The  Purloined  Letter ;"  "  The  System  of  Doctors 
Tar  and  Fether;"  "The  Black  Cat;"  "The  Elk;" 
"  Diddling  Considered  as  one  of  the  Exact  Sciences ;  " 
"  Mesmeric  Revelation  ;  "  "  The  Gold  Bug  ;  "  "  Thou 
art  the  Man;"  about  60  altogether,  including  the 
"  Grotesque  and  Arabesque."  Those  italicized  are  as 
yet  unpublished  —  in  the  hands  of  different  editors.  Of 
the  "Gold  Bug"  (my  most  successful  tale),  more  than 
300,000  copies  have  been  circulated. 

There  is  an  article  on  "  American  Poetry  "  in  a  late 
number  of  the  London  Foreign  Quarterly,  in  which  some 


7^  NEW   YORK.  209 

allusion  is  made  to  me,  as  a  poet,  and  as  an  imitator 
of  Tennyson.  I  would  like  you  to  say  (in  my  defense) 
what  is  the  fact :  that  the  passages  quoted  as  imitations 
were  written  and  published,  in  Boston,  before  the  issue 
of  even  Tennyson's  first  volume.  Dickens  (/  know) 
wrote  the  article  —  I  have  private  personal  reasons  for 
knowing  this.  The  portrait  prepared,  does  not  in  the 
least  resemble  me. 

I  wrote  you  a  long  letter  from  Philadelphia  about 
seven  weeks  since  —  did  you  get  it  ?  You  make  no  allu 
sion  to  it.  In  great  haste, 

Your  most  sincere  friend, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

The  list  of  the  tales  still  in  the  hands  of  editors 
which  this  letter  gives  brings  out  strongly  one 
source  of  the  discouragement  under  which  Poe  had 
to  bear  up.  He  had  been  for  ten  years  a  writer  of 
untiring  industry,  and  in  that  time  had  produced 
an  amount  of  work  large  in  quantity  and  excellent 
in  quality,  much  of  it  belonging  in  the  very  highest 
rank  of  imaginative  prose ;  but  his  books  had  never 
sold,  and  the  income  from  his  tales  and  other 
papers  in  the  magazines  had  never  sufficed  to  keep 
the  wolf  from  the  door  unless  he  eked  out  his  sup 
port  by  editing.  The  fact  that  literature  was  not 
a  paying  profession,  however,  merely  involved  as 
its  consequence  that  Poe  was  under  the  necessity  of 
obtaining  and  keeping  an  editorial  post,  if  he 
wished  to  escape  poverty;  that  he  did  not  realize 

1  Poe  to  Lowell.    MS. 
14 


210  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

his  situation  with  sufficient  clearness,  or  had  not 
sufficient  force  of  character  to  govern  himself  for 
the  sake  of  the  comfort  of  his  home,  may  have 
been  his  fault  or  his  misfortune,  but  is  in  either 
case  obvious  enough.  In  spite  of  all  this,  never 
theless,  it  should  be  constantly  kept  in  mind  that 
Poe  had  difficulty  in  selling  his  work  and  was  very 
poorly  paid.  In  view  of  the  whole  mass  of  his 
writings,  too,  of  which  a  large  portion  was  perish 
able,  what  he  says  of  his  own  indolence  in  the 
following  letter  ought  to  be  taken  with  some  allow 
ance  for  the  tendency  he  had  to  idealize  his  own 
nature.  A  poet's  analysis  of  his  original  tempera 
ment,  if  it  be  sincere,  is  of  the  highest  value ;  for  a 
man's  conception  of  his  own  character,  particularly 
if  he  be  of  an  introspective  turn,  counts  often  as 
one  of  the  most  powerful  influences  that  shape  his 
acts.  In  describing  himself  Poe  was  not  uncon 
scious  of  the  presence  of  Lowell  as  his  auditor,  nor 
forgetful  of  the  latter's  relation  to  him  as  his  biog 
rapher  ;  but  the  account  falls  in  with  other  more 
disinterested  utterances  by  Poe  regarding  himself, 
and  in  general  it  has  an  idiosyncratic  character 
that  marks  it  as  genuine.  In  reading  it  one  in 
voluntarily  remembers  the  separate,  slight  intima 
tions  that  Poe's  life  and  works  have  already  af 
forded  of  his  use  of  drugs  ;  more  than  once,  to  the 
reflective  mind,  a  trait  of  the  opium-eater  must 
have  already  been  startlingly  distinct,  and  though 
the  direct  evidence  of  the  habit  is  very  scanty  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  211 

indirect  evidence  is  constant,  varied,  and  convinc 
ing.  In  the  light  of  this  suggestion  the  following 
rhodomontade  of  philosophy  and  self -analysis  may 
lose  something  of  its  seeming  affectation  :  — 

NEW  YORK,  July  2,  '44. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  LOWELL,  —  I  can  feel  for  the  "  con 
stitutional  indolence  "  of  which  you  complain  —  for  it  is 
one  of  my  own  besetting  sins.  I  am  excessively  sloth 
ful  and  wonderfully  industrious  —  by  fits.  There  are 
epochs  when  any  kind  of  mental  exercise  is  torture,  and 
when  nothing  yields  me  pleasure  but  solitary  communion 
with  the  "mountains  and  the  woods,"  —  the  "altars"  of 
Byron.  I  have  thus  rambled  and  dreamed  away  whole 
months,  and  awake,  at  last,  to  a  sort  of  mania  for  compo 
sition.  Then  I  scribble  all  day,  and  read  all  night,  so 
long  as  the  disease  endures.  This  is  also  the  tempera 
ment  of  P.  P.  Cooke,  of  Virginia,  the  author  of  "  Florence 
Vane,"  "Young  Rosalie  Lee,"  and  some  other  sweet 
poems  —  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  it  were  your 
own.  Cooke  writes  and  thinks  as  you  —  and  I  have 
been  told  that  you  resemble  him  personally. 

I  am  not  ambitious  —  unless  negatively.  I  now  and 
then  feel  stirred  up  to  excel  a  fool,  merely  because  I  hate 
to  let  a  fool  imagine  that  he  may  excel  me.  Beyond  this 
I  feel  nothing  of  ambition.  I  really  perceive  that  vanity 
about  which  most  men  merely  prate,  —  the  vanity  of  the 
human  or  temporal  life.  I  live  continually  in  a  reverie 
of  the  future.  I  have  no  faith  in  human  perfectibility. 
I  think  that  human  exertion  will  have  no  appreciable 
effect  upon  humanity.  Man  is  now  only  more  active  — 
not  more  happy  —  nor  more  wise,  than  he  was  6,000 


212  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

years  ago.  The  result  will  never  vary  —  and  to  suppose 
that  it  will,  is  to  suppose  that  the  foregone  man  has  lived 
in  vain  —  that  the  foregone  time  is  but  the  rudiment  of 
the  future  —  that  the  myriads  who  have  perished  have 
not  been  upon  equal  footing  with  ourselves  —  nor  are  we 
with  our  posterity.  I  cannot  agree  to  lose  sight  of  man 
11  the  individual  in  man  the  mass.  —  I  have  no  belief  in 
1  spirituality.  I  think  the  word  a  mere  word.  No  one 
has  really  a  conception  of  spirit.  We  cannot  imagine 
what  is  not.  We  deceive  ourselves  by  the  idea  of  infi 
nitely  rarefied  matter.  Matter  escapes  the  senses  by  de 
grees  —  a  stone  —  a  metal  —  a  liquid  —  the  atmosphere 
—  a  gas  —  the  luminif erous  ether.  Beyond  this  there 
fare  other  modifications  more  rare.  But  to  all  we  attach 
/  the  notion  of  a  constitution  of  particles  —  atomic  compo 
sition.  For  this  reason  only  we  think  spirit  different ; 
.  for  spirit,  we  say,  is  unparticled,  and  therefore  is  not 
matter.  But  it  is  clear  that  if  we  proceed  sufficiently 
far  in  our  ideas  of  rarefaction,  we  shall  arrive  at  a  point 
where  the  particles  coalesce ;  for,  although  the  particles 
be  infinite,  the  infinity  of  littleness  in  the  spaces  between 
them  is  an  absurdity.  —  The  unparticled  matter,  perme 
ating  and  impelling  all  things,  is  God.  Its  activity  is  the 
thought  of  God  —  which  creates.  Man,  and  other  thinking 
beings,  are  individualizations  of  the  unparticled  matter. 
Man  exists  as  a  "  person,"  by  being  clothed  with  matter 
(the  particled  matter)  which  individualizes  him.  Thus 
habited,  his  life  is  rudimental.  What  we  call  "  death  " 
is  the  painful  metamorphosis.  The  stars  are  the  habita 
tions  of  rudimental  beings.  But  for  the  necessity  of  the 
rudimental  life,  there  would  have  been  no  worlds.  At 
death,  the  worm  is  the  butterfly  —  still  material,  but  of  a 


IN  NEW   YORK.  213 

matter  unrecognized  by  our  organs  —  recognized  occa 
sionally,  perhaps,  by  the  sleep-waker  directly  —  without 
organs  —  through  the  mesmeric  medium.  Thus  a  sleep- 
waker  may  see  ghosts.  Divested  of  the  rudimental  cov 
ering,  the  being  inhabits  space,  —  what  we  suppose  to  be 
the  immaterial  universe,  —  passing  everywhere,  and  act 
ing  all  things,  by  mere  volition,  cognizant  of  all  secrets 
but  that  of  the  nature  of  God's  volition,  —  the  motion,  or 
activity,  of  the  unparticled  matter. 

You  speak  of  "  an  estimate  of  my  life,"  —  and,  from 
what  I  have  already  said,  you  will  see  that  I  have  none 
to  give.  I  have  been  too  deeply  conscious  of  the  muta- ; 
bility  and  evanescence  of  temporal  things  to  give  any* 
continuous  effort  to  anything  —  to  be  consistent  in  any-i 
thing.  My  life  has  been  whim  —  impulse  —  passion"-^* 
a  longing  for  solitude  —  a  scorn  of  all  things  present, 
in  an  earnest  desire  for  the  future. 

I  am  profoundly  excited  by  music,  and  by  some  poems, 
—  those  of  Tennyson  especially  —  whom,  with  Keats, 
Shelley,  Coleridge  (occasionally),  and  a  few  others  of 
like  thought  and  expression,  I  regard  as  the  sole  po 
ets.  Music  is  the  perfection  of  the  soul,  or  idea,  of 
Poetry.  The  vagueness  of  exaltation  aroused  by  a  sweet 
air  (which  should  be  strictly  indefinite  and  never  too 
strongly  suggestive)  is  precisely  what  we  should  aim  at 
in  poetry.  Affectation,  within  bounds,  is  thus  no  blemish. 

I  still  adhere  to  Dickens  as  either  author,  or  dictator, 
of  the  review.  My  reasons  would  convince  you,  could  I 
give  them  to  you,  but  I  have  left  myself  no  space.  I 
had  two  long  interviews  with  Mr.  D.  when  here.  Nearly 
everything  in  the  critique,  I  heard  from  him,  or  suggested 
to  him,  personally.  The  poem  of  Emerson  I  read  to 
hin, 

(Fw. 


214  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

I  have  been  so  negligent  as  not  to  preserve  copies  of 
any  of  my  volumes  of  poems  —  nor  was  either  worthy  of 
preservation.  The  best  passages  were  culled  in  Hirst's 
article.  I  think  my  best  poems  "The  Sleeper,"  "The 
Conqueror  Worm,"  "  The  Haunted  Palace,"  "  Lenore," 
"  Dreamland,"  and  the  "  Coliseum,"  —  but  all  have  been 
hurried  and  unconsidered.  My  best  tales  are  "  Ligeia," 
the  "Gold-Bug,"  the  "Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue," 
"The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher,"  the  "  Tell-Tale 
Heart,"  the  "Black  Cat,"  "William  Wilson,"  and  "The 
Descent  into  the  Maelstrom."  "  The  Purloined  Letter," 
forthcoming  in  the  "  Gift,"  is  perhaps  the  best  of  my 
tales  of  ratiocination.  I  have  lately  written  for  Godey 
"  The  Oblong  Box  "  and  "  Thou  art  the  Man,"  —  as  yet 
unpublished.  With  this  I  mail  you  the  "  Gold-Bug," 
which  is  the  only  one  of  my  tales  I  have  on  hand. 

Graham  has  had,  for  nine  months,  a  review  of  mine  on 
Longfellow's  "  Spanish  Student,"  which  I  have  "  used 
up,"  and  in  which  I  have  exposed  some  of  the  grossest 
plagiarisms  ever  perpetrated.  I  can't  tell  why  he  does 
not  publish  it.  —  I  believe  G.  intends  my  Life  for  the 
September  number,  which  will  be  made  up  by  the  10th 
August.  Your  article  should  be  on  hand  as  soon  as 
convenient.  Believe  me  your  true  friend, 

E.  A.  PoE.1 

The  philosophic  lucubrations  in  the  foregoing 
were  taken  from  his  metaphysical  tale,  "  Mesmeric 
Revelations,"  about  to  be  published  in  the  "  Co 
lumbian  Magazine"  for  August,  and  were  after 
wards  more  fully  developed.  In  his  next  letter  he 
1  Poe  to  Lowell.  MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  215 

returned  to  the  subject,  and  gave  the  noticeable 
information  that  he  was  engaged  on  his  "  Critical 
History  of  American  Literature,"  a  book  at  which 
he  kept  working  until  death. 

NEW  YORK,  August  18,  1844. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

With  this  letter  I  take  the  liberty  to  mail  you  a  num 
ber  of  the  "  Columbian  Magazine,"  in  which  you  will 
find  a  paper  on  "  Mesmeric  Revelation."  In  it  I  have 
endeavored  to  amplify  some  ideas  which  I  suggested  in 
my  last  letter. 

You  will  observe  many  corrections  and  alterations. 
In  fact  the  article  was  wofully  misprinted ;  and  my  prin 
cipal  object  in  boring  you  with  it  now,  is  to  beg  of  you 
the  favor  to  get  it  copied  (with  corrections)  in  the 
Brother  Jonathan  —  I  mean  the  Boston  Notion  —  or 
any  other  paper  where  you  have  interest.  If  you  can 
do  this  without  trouble,  I  would  be  very  deeply  indebted 
to  you.  I  am  living  so  entirely  out  of  the  world,  just 
now,  that  I  can  do  nothing  of  the  kind  myself. 

In  what  are  you  occupied  ?  —  or  is  it  still  the  far 
niente  ?  For  myself  I  am  very  industrious  —  collecting 
and  arranging  materials  for  a  Critical  History  of  Ameri 
can  Literature.  Do  you  ever  see  Mr.  Hawthorne  ?  He 
is  a  man  of  rare  genius.  A  day  or  two  since  I  met  with 
a  sketch  by  him  called  "  Browne's  Wooden  Image  "  — 
delicious.  The  leading  idea,  however,  is  suggested  by 
Michael  Angelo's  couplet :  — 

Non  ha  1'  otterino  artista  alcun  concetto 
Che  un  marmo  solo  in  se  non  circumscriva. 

To  be  sure  Angelo  half  stole  the  thought  from  Socrates. 


216  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

How  fares  it  with  the  Biography  ?  I  fear  we  shall  be 
late.  Most  truly  your  friend, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

Two  months  later  he  acknowledges  the  receipt  of 
the  biography,  which  Lowell  had  sent,  September 
27,  in  care  of  his  friend,  Mr.  C.  F.  Briggs,  Poe's 
future  partner,  and  again  reverts  to  the  scheme 
for  the  association  of  authors  in  a  Magazine  Com 
pany. 

NEW  YORK,  Oct.  28,  '44. 
MY  DEAR  FRIEND, 

A  host  of  small  troubles  growing  from  the  one  trouble 
of  poverty,  but  which  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  in 
detail,  have  hitherto  prevented  me  from  thanking  you 
for  the  Biography  and  all  the  well-intended  flatteries 
which  it  contains.  But,  upon  the  principle  of  better  late 
than  never,  let  me  thank  you  now,  again  and  again.  I 
sent  it  to  Graham  on  the  day  I  received  it  —  taking  with 
it  only  one  liberty  in  the  way  of  modification.  This.  I 
hope  you  will  pardon.  It  was  merely  the  substitution 
of  another  brief  poem  for  the  last  you  have  done  me  the 
honor  to  quote. 

I  have  not  seen  your  marriage  announced,  but  I  pre 
sume  from  what  you  said  in  your  penultimate  letter, 
that  I  may  congratulate  you  now.  Is  it  so  ?  At  all 
events  I  can  wish  you  no  better  wish  than  that  you  may 
derive  from  your  marriage  as  substantial  happiness  as  I 
have  derived  from  mine. 

A  long  time  ago  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter  to  which 
you  have  never  replied.     It  concerned  a  scheme  for  pro- 
i  Poe  to  Lowell.    MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  217 

tecting  ourselves  from  the  imposition  of  publishers  by 
a  coalition.  I  will  state  it  again  in  brief.  Suppose  a 
dozen  of  the  most  active  or  influential  men  of  letters  in 
this  country  should  unite  for  the  purpose  of  publishing  a 
magazine  of  high  character.  Their  names  to  be  kept 
secret,  that  their  mutual  support  might  be  the  more  ef 
fectual.  Each  member  to  take  a  share  of  the  stock  at 
$100  a  share.  Each,  if  required,  to  furnish  one  article 
each  month  —  the  work  to  be  sustained  altogether  by 
the  contributions  of  the  members,  or  by  unpaid  contri 
butions  from  others.  As  many  of  the  members  as  possi 
ble  to  be  taken  from  those  connected  otherwise  with  the 
press  :  —  a  black-ball  to  exclude  any  one  suggested  as  a 
member  by  those  already  conjoined  —  this  to  secure 
unanimity.  These,  of  course,  are  mere  hints  in  the 
rough.  But  suppose  that  (the  scheme  originating  with 
yourself  and  me)  we  write  to  any  others  or,  seeing  them 
personally,  engage  them  in  the  enterprise.  The  desired 
number  being  made  up,  a  meeting  might  be  held,  and  a 
constitution  framed.  A  point  in  this  latter  might  be 
that  an  editor  should  be  elected  periodically  from  among 
the  stockholders. 

The  advantages  of  such  a  coalition  seem  to  me  very- 
great.  The  Magazine  could  be  started  with  a  positive 
certainty  of  success.  There  would  be  no  expense  for 
contributions,  while  we  would  have  the  best.  Plates,  of 
course,  would  be  disdained.  The  aim  would  be  to  ele 
vate  without  stupefying  our  literature  —  to  further  jus 
tice  —  to  resist  foreign  dictation  —  and  to  afford  (in  the 
circulation  and  profit  of  the  journal)  a  remuneration  to 
ourselves  for  whatever  we  should  write. 

The  work  should  be  printed  in  the  very  best  manner, 


218  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

and  should  address  the  aristocracy  of  talent.  We  might 
safely  give,  for  $5,  a  pamphlet  of  128  pages,  and,  with 
the  support  of  the  variety  of  our  personal  influence,  we 
might  easily  extend  the  circulation  to  20,000,  —  giving 
$100,000.  The  expenses  would  not  exceed  $40,000,  —  if 
indeed  they  reached  $20,000  when  the  work  should  be 
fairly  established.  Thus  there  would  be-  $60,000  to  be 
divided  among  twelve,  —  $5,000  per  annum  apiece. 

I  have  thought  of  this  matter  long  and  cautiously,  and 
am  persuaded  that  there  would  be  little  difficulty  in  doing 
even  far  more  than  I  have  ventured  to  suggest. 

Do  you  hear  anything  more  about  the  Lectures  ? 

Truly  yours,  E.  A.  POE.1 

It  was  before  the  date  of  this  letter  that,  accord 
ing  to  Mr.  N.  P.  Willis,  Mrs.  Clemm  called  upon 
him  and  solicited  employment  for  Poe,  who  was 
then,  she  said,  ill.  Willis,  who  was  just  convert 
ing  his  weekly  paper,  the  "New  Mirror,"  into  the 
"Evening  Mirror,"  a  daily,  with  a  weekly  issue  in 
addition,  was  in  need  of  a  subordinate,  and  in  con 
sequence  of  Mrs.  Clemm's  visit,  whose  countenance, 
he  says,  in  his  falsetto  style,  was  made  "  beautiful 
and  saintly  by  an  evident  complete  giving  up  of  her 
life  to  privation  and  sorrowful  tenderness,"  Poe  was 
engaged  as  an  assistant  —  "a  mechanical  parag- 
raphist,"  to  use  Willis's  phrase  —  in  the  "Mirror" 
office.  There,  at  a  desk  in  a  corner,  he  sat  from 
nine  in  the  morning  until  the  paper  went  to  press, 
ready  for  whatever  work  might  befall.  Without  a 
1  Poe  to  Lowell.  MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  219 

smile,  or  a  word  of  praise  or  blame,  he  discharged 
the  duties  of  the  daily  routine  punctually,  listened 
good-humoredly  to  the  request  that  he  would  dull 
the  edge  of  a  criticism  or  soften  a  misanthropic 
sentiment,  and  conformed  with  entire  fidelity  to  the 
suggestions  made.  Such  is  Willis's  sketch  of  his 
subordinate,  and  he  adds  in  general  terms  that 
through  a  considerable  period  he  saw  only  "one 
presentment  of  the  man,  —  a  quiet,  patient,  indus 
trious,  and  most  gentlemanly  person,  commanding 
the  utmost  respect  and  good  feeling  by  his  unvary 
ing  deportment  and  ability."  It  needs  no  keen  eye 
to  read  between  the  lines  of  this  highly  respectable 
description  the  real  facts,  —  that  the  pay  was  small, 
the  labor  perfunctory  and  uninteresting,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  poet  himself,  compelled  to  subdue  his 
saturnine  temper  to  the  geniality  of  his  chief,  was 
chafing  and  burning  within.  It  was  a  striking  in 
stance  of  Pegasus  in  harness. 

The  first  number  of  "  The  Evening  Mirror  "  ap 
peared  October  7,  1844,  and  the  next  day  the  liter 
ary  columns  contained'  this  passage  upon  Elizabeth 
Barrett  Browning  :  — 

"  Miss  Barrett  is  worth  a  dozen  of  Tennyson  and  six 
of  Motherwell  —  equal  perhaps  in  original  genius  to 
Keats  and  Shelley." 

Two  months  later  this  was  followed  up  by  an 
other  unmistakable  sentence  on  the  same  poetess : 

"  We  do  not  believe  there  is  a  poetical  soul  embodied 


220  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

in  this  world  that  —  as  a  centre  of  thought  —  sees  fur 
ther  out  toward  the  periphery  permitted  to  angels,  than 
Miss  Barrett."  J 

These  critical  dicta  could  have  been  no  one's  but 
Poe's ;  and  as  his  hand  is  readily  discerned  in  the 
literary  paragraphing  at  many  other  points,  it  is 
most  likely  that  he  was  employed  on  the  daily  from 
its  start.  It  is  as  certain,  on  the  other  hand,  as  in 
ternal  evidence  can  make  it  that  he  never  before 
this  time,  as  has  been  stated,2  made  one  of  Willis's 
staff  of  writers. 

Nothing  of  Poe's  in  the  "  Mirror  "  during  the  first 
three  months  requires  notice ;  but  meanwhile  his 
old  pieces  in  editors'  hands  had  got  published  :  the 
two  inferior  grotesques,  "  The  Oblong  Box  "  and 
"Thou  art  the  Man,"  in  "Godey's"  for  Septem 
ber  and  October  ;  "  The  Literary  Life  of  Thingum 
Bob,"  a  satirical  extravaganza,  mainly  ridiculous, 
on  the  ways  of  editors  and  the  means  of  popular 
ity,  which  had  at  last  found  its  indulgent  victim  in 
the  "Southern  Literary  Messenger "  for  December, 

1  Evening  Mirror,  December  7,  1844. 

2  Ingram,  i.  248.     The  statement  that  Poe  contributed  trans 
lations  from  the  French  to  the  New  Mirror  from  April,  1843,  to 
its  discontinuance  (which  is  wrongly  said  to  have  taken  place  be 
fore  Poe  left  Philadelphia),  and  signed  them  with  his  initials,  rests 
on  a  negligent  examination  of  the  files.    The  translations  referred 
to  begin  January  3,  1843  (i.  9),  and  are  signed  E.  P.;  they  con 
tinue  to  the  end,  but  afterwards  they  are  also  signed  at  the  be 
ginning  of  the  articles  "By  a  Lady."       (For  example,  i.  307, 
355,  etc.)     They  are,  moreover,  from  authors  whom  there  is  no 
evidence  that  Poe  read. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  221 

where  it  appeared  anonymously  ;  "  The  Purloined 
Letter,"  in  the  "  Gift "  for  1845,  closing  the  series 
of  the  ratiocinative  tales.  In  the  "  Democratic  Re 
view  "  for  November  and  December,  too,  the  first  in 
stallments  of  the  miscellaneous  notes  called  "  Mar 
ginalia  "  were  issued ;  and  as  one  reads  them  and 
the  later  collections,  which  continued  to  be  pub 
lished  until  Poe  died,  one  cannot  but  admire  the 
audacity  of  their  author,  who  could  thus  resell  clip 
pings  from  his  old  book  reviews  since  the  beginning 
of  his  career,  by  merely  giving  them  a  new  title. 
It  was  a  dexterous  filching  back  from  Time  of  the 
alms  for  oblivion  already  given  and  stored  away  in 
that  capacious  wallet.  Doubtless  Poe  looked  on  ed 
itors  as  fair  game,  —  if  they  would  not  buy  his  new 
tales,  let  them  purchase  his  old  criticisms.  But 
now  an  event  occurred  that  made  any  manuscripts 
by  Poe  treasure-trove.  Probably  the  editors,  who 
had  almost  emptied  their  pigeon-holes  of  his  accu 
mulated  contributions,  were  sorry  they  had  not  de 
layed  longer. 

In  the   "Evening  Mirror,"  January  29,  1845, 
"  The  Raven  "  l  was  published,  with  a  highly  com- 

1  The  author  is  indebted  to  an  unpublished  paper  by  Professor 
W.  E.  Griffis  for  the  earliest  mention  of  "  The  Raven,"  which,  on 
evidence  satisfactory  to  Professor  Griffis,  was  in  the  course  of  com 
position  in  the  summers  of  1842  and  1843.  The  legend,  however, 
involves  the  assertion  that  Poe,  at  the  time  of  his  greatest  pov 
erty  in  Philadelphia,  was  visiting  a  pleasure  resort  near  Saratoga 
Springs.  Of  this  there  is  no  documentary  proof,  and  in  the  au 
thor's  opinion  it  is  highly  improbable ;  the  story  is  therefore  not 
included  in  the  text. 


222  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

mendatory  card  from  Willis ;  and  a  few  days  later 
"  The  American  Whig  Review  "  for  February,  from 
the  advance  sheets  of  which  this  poem  had  been 
copied,  was  the  centre  of  literary  interest  and  the 
prey  of  editorial  scissors  throughout  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  country.  In  the  magazine  the  au 
thor  was  masked  under  the  pseudonym  "  Quarles," 
but  in  this  journal  he  had  been  named  as  E.  A. 
Poe.  The  popular  response  was  instantaneous  and 
decisive.  No  great  poem  ever  established  itself 
so  immediately,  so  widely,  and  so  imperishably 
in  men's  minds.  "  The  Raven  "  became,  in  some 
sort,  a  national  bird,  and  the  author  the  most 
notorious  American  of  the  hour.  It  happened  — 
and  for  this  Godey  and  Graham  must  have  blessed 
their  stars  —  that  in  their  respective  magazines  of 
this  same  month  the  former  published  "The  1002 
Tale,"  the  voyage  of  Sinbad  among  the  wonders 
made  known  by  modern  science,  and  the  latter 
Lowell's  sketch  of  Poe. 

One  cannot  help  wondering  whether  Poe  felt  no 
misgiving  when  he  read  the  latter,  with  its  falsifica 
tions  of  fact,  and  in  the  first  heat  of  an  assured 
fame  reflected  that  these  might  some  day  be  in 
quired  into.  Not  to  mention  minor  representations, 
the  third  misstatement  of  his  birth  (1813),  the 
romance  of  his  expedition  to  St.  Petersburg,  and 
the  assertion  that  he  left  West  Point  on  account 
of  the  birth  of  a  son  and  heir  to  Mr.  Allan,  he 
knew  to  be  untrue ;  even  if  he  were  not  respon- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  223 

sible  for  the  original  errors  (the  assumption  is 
absurd)  in  the  previous  sketches  of  him  by  Gris- 
wolcl  and  Hirst,  he  furnished  the  latter 's  biography 
as  the  source  of  information,  and  he  himself  revised 
Lowell's  own  article  four  months  before  its  publica 
tion.  Poe  circulated,  and  so  far  as  he  could  prac 
tically  accredited,  falsehoods  concerning  himself ; 
moreover,  he  approved  the  report  of  his  wildness 
in  youth,  and  he  took  no  pains  to  explain  the  ques 
tionable  incidents  of  his  career.  One  single  poor 
defense  for  his  conduct,  in  this  particular  instance, 
he  left  his  biographer  in  the  guarded  sentence  in 
his  letter  to  Lowell,  in  which  he  describes  the 
"Museum"  Life  as  correct  "in  the  main."  Sim 
ilar  untruths,  however,  in  regard  to  himself  occur 
in  his  letters  and  other  writings,  although  it  has  not 
been  thought  necessary  to  call  special  attention  to 
them  in  each  case.  This  failing  casts  suspicion 
upon  all  unsupported  assertions  by  him  that  di 
rectly  affect  himself. 

A  The  first  trial  Poe  made  of  the  value  of  his  pop 
ularity  was  to  lecture  in  the  library  of  the  New 
York  Historical  Society,  on  February  28,  when  be 
tween  two  and  three  hundred  persons  gathered  to 
hear  him.  His  subject  was,  as  before,  American 
Poetry,  and  in  substance  the  address  was  the  old 
monologue,  sharp,  bitter,  and  grim,  on  the  sins  of 
editors  and  the  stupidity  of  versifiers,  relieved  only 
by  the  recitation  of  a  few  fine  poems  and  too 
generous  praise  where  he  thought  praise  was  due. 


224  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

He  dealt  with  Mrs.  Sigourney,  Mrs.  Welby,  Mrs. 
Osgood,  Seba  Smith,  the  Davidsons,  Bryant,  Hal- 
leek,  Longfellow,  Sprague,  and  Dana.  The  in 
ference  is  that  the  lecture  was  made  up  by  piecing 
together  his  old  book  reviews,  and  was  probably 
textually  the  same  with  that  delivered  at  Phila 
delphia,  except  that  he  now  omitted  reference  to 
Griswold,  with  whom  he  was  endeavoring  to  renew 
his  acquaintance,  plainly  from  selfish  motives.  He 
was  still  playing  the  part  of  the  fearless  critic,  and 
he  found  some  listeners  to  follow  Lowell's  lead  and 
commend  him  for  his  daring,  while  they  acknowl 
edged  the  usefulness  of  his  ungracious  service ; 
but  there  were  many  more  in  whose  minds  his 
words  rankled.  He  was  a  good  speaker,  having 
natural  gifts  of  elocution  and  an  effective  manner. 
Willis,  in  noticing  the  lecture,  sketches  him  with 
the  elegant  facility  that  now,  to  our  changed  taste, 
reads  so  much  like  nonsense :  — 

"He  becomes  a  desk, — his  beautiful  head  showing 
like  a  statuary  embodiment  of  Discrimination;  his  ac 
cent  drops  like  a  knife  through  water,  and  his  style  is 
so  much  purer  and  clearer  than  the  pulpit  commonly 
gets  or  requires  that  the  effect  of  what  he  says,  besides 
other  things,  pampers  the  ear."  l 

The  lecture  over,  Poe  returned  to  his  work  upon 
the  "  Mirror,"  which  he  had  already  got  into 
trouble  by  an  attack  on  Longfellow's  collection  of 
minor  fugitive  poems,  called  "  The  Waif ; "  but  in 

1  Evening  Mirror,  March  12,  1845. 


7J\r  NEW  YORK.  225 

the  course  of  the  month  he  withdrew  from  the  paper, 
much  to  the  regret  of  his  employer.  His  contribu 
tions  to  the  "  Mirror  "  were  of  the  slightest  interest, 
and  contain  nothing  novel.  His  connection  with  it 
had  inured  to  his  own  benefit  by  the  frequent  puffs 
of  himself,  both  direct  and  indirect,  which  it  pub 
lished,  and  by  the  literary  introductions  which  his 
position  afforded  him.  He  was,  however,  always 
dissatisfied  with  his  situation,  and  before  half  a 
year  had  passed  practically  used  the  "  Mirror  "  to 
advertise  for  a  better  place.  In  the  same  issue  that 
reprinted  Lowell's  critical  estimate  of  him,  he  is 
editorially  praised,  his  capacities  as  a  magazine  ed 
itor  pointed  out,  and  himself  described  as  "  ready 
for  propositions."  3  No  proposition  of  the  kind  was 
made,  but  an  arrangement  was  entered  into  by 
which  he  became  associated  with  Charles  F.  Briggs, 
then  known  as  "Harry  Franco,"  in  the  manage 
ment  of  the  "  Broadway  Journal,"  a  weekly  which 
had  issued  its  first  number  on  the  4th  of  January 
previous. 

Briggs  was  a  writer  of  light  literature,  from  Nan- 
tucket,  and  ambitious  of  editing  a  paper.  A  month 
before  this  time  he  wrote  to  his  friend  Lowell,  "  I 
have  made  arrangements  for  publishing  the  first 
number  of  my  long-talked-of  paper  in  January.  It 
will  be  published  by  John  Bisco,  a  shrewd  Yankee 
from  Worcester,  who  has  been  a  school-teacher  in 
New  Jersey,  and  was  once  the  publisher  of  the 

1  Evening  Mirror,  January  20,  1845. 
15 

//TT'ivf 


226  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

'  Knickerbocker.'  '  Further  on  he  adds,  "  If  you 
know  Poe's  address,  send  it  to  me  when  you 
write."  1  In  consequence  of  this  introduction,  Poe 
contributed  to  the  first  two  numbers  of  the  "  Jour 
nal"  a  review  of  Mrs.  Browning,  and  from  that 
time  was  a  regular  writer,  at  the  rate  of  $1  a  col 
umn.  The  impression  he  made  on  Briggs  is  told 
in  the  following  passages  of  the  latter's  correspond 
ence  with  Lowell :  — 

"  I  like  Poe  exceedingly  well ;  Mr.  Griswold  has  told 
me  shocking  bad  stories  about  him,  which  his  whole  de 
meanor  contradicts."  2 

"  Poe  tells  me  that  Graham  refused  to  print  his  tale 
of  the  Gold  Bug,  and  kept  it  in  his  possession  nine 
months.  I  never  read  it  before  last  week,  and  it  strikes 
me  as  among  the  most  ingenious  pieces  of  fiction  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  If  you  have  not  read  it,  it  will  repay 
you  for  the  trouble  when  you  do.  He  told  me  further 
more  that  the  poem  which  you  have  quoted  from  the 
House  of  Usher, 

'  In  a  valley,  fair  and  shady  [sic] 
By  good  angels  tenanted,'  etc., 

he  sent  to  O'Sullivan  for  the  '  Democratic,'  and  it  was 
returned  to  him.  You  see  by  these  what  the  judg 
ments  of  Magazine  editors  amount  to.  ...  I  have  al 
ways  strangely  misunderstood  Poe,  from  thinking  him 
one  of  the  Graham  and  Godey  species,  but  I  find  him  as 
different  as  possible.  I  think  that  you  will  like  him 
well  when  you  come  to  know  him  personally."  3 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell,  December  7,  1844.     MS. 

2  Briggs  to  Lowell,  January  6,  1845.     MS. 
8  Briggs  to  Lowell,  January  27,  1845.     MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  227 

At  the  beginning  of  March  Poe  was  announced 
as  a  co-editor,  with  Henry  G.  Watson  and  Briggs, 
of  the  "  Journal ;  "  and  for  the  sake  of  elucidation 
it  should  be  added  that  by  this  time  he  was  in  the 
thick  of  the  so-called  "  Longfellow  war,"  in  which 
he  was  endeavoring  to  sustain  the  charge  of  plagia 
rism  against  the  poet,  and  that  incidentally  he  occa 
sionally  glanced  at  Lowell  as  guilty  of  the  same  of 
fense,  whether,  knowingly  or  not.  By  following  the 
correspondence,  which  is  the  only  original  authority 
for  this  portion  of  Poe's  career,  the  relations  be 
tween  him  and  his  chief  are  easily  made  out.  On 
March  8  Briggs  writes,  — 

"  Poe  is  only  an  assistant  to  me,  and  will  in  no  manner 
interfere  with  my  own  way  of  doing  things.  It  was  req 
uisite  that  I  should  have  his  or  some  other  person's  assist 
ance,  on  account  of  my  liability  to  be  taken  off  from  the 
business  of  the  paper,  and  as  his  name  is  of  some  au 
thority  I  thought  it  advisable  to  announce  him  as  an 
editor.  Mr.  Watson's  name  will  command  the  support 
of  a  good  portion  of  the  musical  interest  in  this  city  and 
in  Boston,  and  by  putting  forth  his  name  as  musical 
editor  I  can  gain  his  time  for  a  pro  rata  dividend  on 
the  amount  of  patronage  which  he  may  obtain.  He  is 
the  only  musical  critic  in  the  country  and  a  thorough 
good  fellow.  Poe  has  left  the  Mirror.  Willis  was  too 
Willisy  for  him.  Unfortunately  for  him  (Poe)  he  has 
mounted  a  very  ticklish  hobby  just  now,  Plagiarism, 
which  he  is  bent  on  riding  to  death,  and  I  think  the 
better  way  is  to  let  him  run  down  as  soon  as  possible  by 
giving  him  no  check.  Wiley  and  Putnam  are  going  to 


228  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

publish  a  new  edition  of  his  tales  and  sketches.  Every 
body  has  been  raven-mad  about  his  last  poem,  and  his 
lecture,  which  "W.  Story  went  with  me  to  hear,  has  gained 
him  a  dozen  or  two  of  waspish  foes  who  will  do  him 
more  good  than  harm."  ] 

A  week  later,  March  16,  he  returns  to  the  same 
subject :  — 

"  Poe  is  a  monomaniac  on  the  subject  of  plagiarism, 
and  I  thought  it  best  to  allow  him  to  ride  his  hobby  to 
death  in  the  outset  and  be  done  with  it.  It  all  com 
menced  with  myself.  When  he  was  in  the  Mirror  of 
fice  he  made  what  I  thought  a  very  unjustifiable  charge 
against  my  friend  Aldrich  [James  Aldrich],  who  is  one 
of  the  best  fellows  in  the  world,  and  I  replied  to  it  as  you 
saw.  Somebody  in  Boston,  '  Outis,'  whose  name  I  for 
get,  replied  to  P.  on  behalf  of  Longfellow  and  Aldrich, 
and  so  the  war  began.  It  will  end  as  it  began,  in  smoke. 
But  it  will  do  us  some  good  by  calling  public  attention  to 
our  paper.  Poe  is  a  much  better  fellow  than  you  have 
an  idea  of.  ...  The  'Journal'  gains  strength  every 
day,  and  I  am  very  sanguine  of  success."  ' 

Three  clays  later  he  writes  again  more  fully :  — 

"  I  thought  it  best  to  gain  Poe's  services  as  a  critic  be 
cause  he  already  has  a  reputation  for  reviewing,  and  I 
could  gain  them  by  allowing  him  a  certain  portion  of  the 
profits  of  the  paper.  He  thought  it  would  gain  the 
'  Journal '  a  certain  number  of  subscribers  immediately 
if  his  name  were  published  in  connection  with  it.  I  did 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell.    MS. 

2  Briggs  to  Lowell.    MS. 


/./V  NEW   YORK.  229 

not  much  like  the  plan,  but  he  had  had  more  experience 
than  myself  in  the  matter,  so  I  consented.  ...  I  retain 
precisely  the  same  authority  I  did  in  the  beginning.  .  .  . 
Poe's  fol-de-rol  about  plagiarism  I  do  not  like,  but  the 
replies  which  it  provokes  serve  us  as  advertisements, 
and  help  us  along.  As  he  dealt  more  severely  by  me 
and  my  friend  Aldrich  than  anybody  else  I  do  not  think 
that  anybody  has  any  right  to  complain  of  his  thumps.  I 
think  that  you  are  too  sensitive  in  regard  to  Longfellow ; 
I  really  do  not  see  that  he  has  said  anything  offensive 
about  him.  .  .  .  Poe  has  indeed  a  very  high  admiration 
for  Longfellow,  and  so  he  will  say  before  he  is  done. 
For  my  own  part  I  did  not  use  to  think  well  of  Poe,  but 
my  love  for  you  and  implicit  confidence  in  your  judg 
ment,  led  me  to  abandon  all  my  prejudices  against  him 
when  I  read  your  account  of  him.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Gris- 
wold,  of  Philadelphia,  told  me  some  abominable  lies 
about  him,  but  a  personal  acquaintance  with  him  has  in 
duced  me  to  think  highly  of  him.  Perhaps  some  Phila- 
delphian  has  been  whispering  foul  things  in  your  ear 
about  him.  Doubtless  his  sharp  manner  has  made  him 
many  enemies.  But  you  will  think  better  of  him  when 
you  meet  him."  ] 

While  Briggs  was  thus  explaining  his  own  posi 
tion  and  defending  Poe  from  the  strictures  of 
Lowell,  who  had  now  ceased  to  correspond  with 
him,  the  "  Broadway  Journal  "  was  becoming  noto 
rious  by  this  "  Longfellow  war,"  which,  as  Briggs 
remarked  at  the  time,  was  "  all  on  one  side."  The 
attitude  of  Poe  toward  Longfellow  has  become  suf- 
1  Briggs  to  Lowell.  MS. 


230  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

ficiently  clear  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  nar 
rative  ;  he  was  a  jealous  admirer.  The  present, 
and  most  notorious,  embrogiio  was  occasioned  by 
the  publication  of  "  The  Waif,"  a  collection  of 
fugitive  pieces  by  minor  authors,  edited  by  Long 
fellow.  In  the  "  Evening  Mirror  "  Poe  had  said,  — 

"  We  conclude  our  notes  on  the  '  Waif  '  with  the  ob 
servation  that,  although  full  of  beauties,  it  is  infected 
with  a  moral  taint  —  or  is  this  a  mere  freak  of  our  own 
fancy  ?  We  shall  be  pleased  if  it  be  so  ;  —  but  there 
does  appear,  in  this  little  volume,  a  very  careful  avoid 
ance  of  all  American  poets  who  may  be  supposed  espe 
cially  to  interfere  with  the  claims  of  Mr.  Longfellow. 
These  men  Mr.  Longfellow  can  continuously  imitate  (is 
that  the  word  ?)  and  yet  never  incidentally  commend."  1 

The  discussion  thus  begun  was  followed  up  in 
succeeding  issues  with  the  protests  of  Longfel 
low's  friends  and  the  editorial  comment  in  reply, 
extenuating  on  Willis's  part,  vindicatory  on  Poe's, 
until  Willis  withdrew  from  the  discussion  in  a 
card  in  which  he  stated  his  entire  dissent  from 
"  all  the  disparagement  of  Longfellow  "  that  had 
been  published  in  the  "  Mirror  ; "  and  soon  after 
he  admitted  to  its  columns  a  lengthy  defense  of 
him  by  one  "  Outis,"  at  just  about  the  time  that 
Poe  left  the  office  to  join  Briggs. 

On  March  1  the  new  editor  of  the  "  Broadway 
Journal "  began  his  reply  to  "  Outis,"  which  was 
continued  in  weekly  installments  through  five  num- 

1  Evening  Mirror,  January  14,  1845. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  231 

bers.  As  far  as  it  related  to  Longfellow  it  repeated 
textually  the  charge  made  in  "  Burton's  "  in  regard 
to  "The  Midnight  Mass  for  the  Dying  Year;"  dis 
credited  a  letter  in  which  Longfellow  had  person 
ally  explained  the  error  in  consequence  of  which 
he  had  translated  a  song  of  Motherwell's  back  into 
English  from  the  German  of  Wolff,  under  the 
impression  that  it  was  original  with  the  latter ;  and 
finally  charged  new  plagiarisms,  particularly  in  the 
case  of  "  The  Spanish  Student,"  some  scenes  of 
which  he  traced  to  his  own  "  Politian  "  in  a  violent 
passage  in  which  probably  the  old  review  is  in 
corporated. 

To  sum  up  Poe's  strictures  as  urged  here  and  in 
earlier  and  later  writings,  Longfellow  was  a  plagia 
rist,  a  didactic  poet,  and  a  writer  of  hexameters. 
In  this  there  is  so  much  truth  as  is  involved  in  the 
milder  statement  that  he  belonged  to  the  poets  of 
cultivation  rather  than  of  irresistible  original  gen 
ius,  that  he  frequently  wrote  to  illustrate  or  enforce 
morality,  and  that  his  ear  was  too  little  refined  to 
be  offended  by  the  spondaic  flatness  of  an  English 
hexameter.  That  Poe  was  sincere  in  his  opinions, 
though  he  enforced  them  rudely  and  with  the  ma 
licious  pleasure  of  an  envious  rival,  there  can  be 
little  question ;  that  Longfellow  never  pilfered 
from  Poe,  and  that  in  the  unconscious  adaptations 
natural  to  a  poet  of  culture  he  never  imitated  him, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  at  all.  In  the  elusive  search 
for  motives  in  the  case,  it  is  best  to  remain  con- 


232  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

tent  with  Longfellow's  charitable  opinion :  "  The 
harshness  of  his  criticisms  I  have  never  attributed 
to  anything  but  the  irritation  of  a  sensitive  nature, 
chafed  by  some  indefinite  sense  of  wrong."  1 

Poe's  other  contributions  to  the  "  Journal  "  dur 
ing  the  time  that  he  had  "  a  third  interest  "  (as  he 
described  to  Griswold  his  salary  of  a  third  of  the 
profits)  were  plentiful,  but  not  original.  The  mis 
erable  grotesque  "  Peter  Snooks,"  and  the  long- 
rejected  tale  "  The  Premature  Burial,"  of  which 
no  earlier  publication  is  found,  were  the  only 
new  stories ;  but  of  the  old  ones  he  reprinted, 
sometimes  with  slightly  changed  names  and  other 
revision,  "  Lionizing,"  "  Berenice,"  "  Bon-Bon," 
"  The  Oval  Portrait,"  "  The  Philosophy  of  Furni 
ture,"  "  Three  Sundays  in  a  Week,"  "  The  Pit  and 
the  Pendulum,"  "  Eleonora,"  "Shadow,"  "  The 
Assignation,"  and  "  Morella ;  "  and  of  his  poems, 
«To  F ,"  "The  Sleeper,"  "To  One  in  Para 
dise,"  and  "  The  Conqueror  Worm."  He  also  uti 
lized  passages  from  old  book-reviews  by  incorporat 
ing  them  in  new  notices.  His  new  papers  were  for 
the  most  part  hack-work  articles  on  anastatic  print 
ing,  street-paving,  magazine  literature,  etc.,  etc. ; 
the  only  noteworthy  pieces  being  a  critical  baiting 
of  one  W.  W.  Lord,  who  had  committed  the  un 
pardonable  sin  of  plagiarizing  from  the  author  of 
"  The  Kaven,"  and  the  exhaustive  review  of  some 
volumes  of  Mrs.  Browning's,  already  mentioned. 
1  Southern  Literary  Messenger,  November,  1849. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  233 

In  this  last,  although  nearly  all  the  space  is  taken 
up  with  unfavorable  comment  in  detail,  Miss  Bar 
rett  is  at  the  conclusion  lifted  to  the  highest  pinna 
cle  but  one  :  "  She  has  surpassed  all  her  poetical 
contemporaries  of  either  sex  (with  a  single  excep 
tion),"  that  exception  being  Tennyson. 

Outside  of  the  "  Journal,"  Poe  contributed  to 
the  April  "  Whig  Review  "  "  The  Doomed  City  " 
and  "  The  Valley  Ms,"  revised,  and  "  Some  Words 
with  a  Mummy,"  a  grotesque  on  the  old  theme 
that  "  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun,"  with 
some  unusual  satire  on  politics.  Before  the  end  of 
the  year,  it  may  be  added  here,  he  had  published 
in  the  "  Democratic "  "  The  Power  of  Words,"  a 
metaphysical  tale;  in  the  "Whig,"  "The  Facts 
in  the  Case  of  M.  Valdemar,"  that  tale  which  for 
mere  physical  disgust  and  foul  horror  has  no  rival 
in  literature,  though  in  writing  it,  Poe  was  much 
indebted  to  a  romance,  "  The  Seeress  of  Prevorst," 
and  in  the  same  magazine  in  July  the  new  poem 
"  Eulalie,"  and  in  August  the  review  of  "  The 
American  Drama  "  in  which  he  dealt  mainly  with 
Willis's  "  Tortesa,"  and  once  more  with  Long 
fellow's  "  Spanish  Student  "  at  great  length ;  in 
"  Graham's,"  "  The  Imp  of  the  Perverse,"  the  last 
of  the  tales  of  conscience,  and  the  absurd  mad 
house  grotesque  "  Dr.  Tarr  and  Prof.  Fether ; " 
and  in  "  Godey's  "  two  installments  of  the  clippings 
from  old  magazines,  called  "  Marginalia."  These 
publications  include  all  his  new  writings  until  1846. 

I(T  ^ 

U 


234  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

The  history  of  the  "  Broadway  Journal "  in  the 
mean  time  was  interesting.  When  the  first  volume 
was  approaching  its  end,  Briggs  wrote  to  Lowell, 
June  29,  1845,  reviewing  his  plans  :  — 

"  I  have  arrangements  on  foot  with  a  new  publisher 
for  the  Journal  who  will  enable  me  to  give  it  a  fresh 
start,  and  I  trust  very  soon  to  be  able  to  give  you  an 
earnest  of  its  profits.  I  shall  haul  down  Poe's  name  ; 
he  has  latterly  got  into  his  old  habits  and  I  fear  will  in 
jure  himself  irretrievably.  I  was  taken  at  first  with  a 
certain  appearance  of  independence  and  learning  in  his 
criticisms,  but  they  are  so  verbal,  and  so  purely  selfish 
that  I  can  no  longer  have  any  sympathy  with  him."  1 

Not  long  before,  Lowell,  being  on  his  way  from 
Philadelphia  back  to  Cambridge,  called  on  Poe ;  but 
as,  in  Mrs.  Clemm's  words  to  the  former,  "  he  was 
not  himself  "  that  day,  none  of  those  golden  hopes, 
indulged  in  by  Poe,  and  at  an  earlier  date  by  Briggs 
also,  were  realized  from  this  personal  meeting.  The 
interview,  however,  prepared  Lowell  for  the  fol 
lowing  passage  in  Briggs' s  next  letter,  in  explanation 
of  what  seemed  a  sudden  demise  of  the  "  Jour 
nal:"— 

"  The  non-appearance  of  the  '  Broadway  Journal '  has 
probably  surprised  you.  I  had  made  arrangements  with 
a  new  publisher,  —  a  very  good  business  man,  —  and  had 
agreed  upon  terms  with  Bisco  to  buy  his  interest ;  but 
when  I  came  to  close  with  him  he  exacted  more  than  I 
had  stipulated  for,  and  finding  that  he  was  determined 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell.   MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  235 

to  give  me  trouble  I  refused  to  do  anything  with  the 
1  Journal.'  I  had  the  first  number  of  the  new  volume  all 
ready  to  be  issued,  with  a  handsomely  engraved  title, 
etc. ;  but,  as  I  could  not  put  the  new  publisher's  name 
upon  it  without  Bisco's  consent,  I  let  it  go  a  week,  mean 
ing  to  issue  a  double  number  —  not  doubting  that  I  could 
agree  with  him  upon  some  terms  ;  but  he  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  evil  advisers,  and  became  more  extortionate 
than  ever.  Poe  in  the  meantime  got  into  a  drunken 
spree,  and  conceived  an  idea  that  I  had  not  treated  him 
well,  for  which  he  had  no  other  grounds  than  my  having 
loaned  him  money,  and  persuaded  Bisco  to  carry  on  the 
'  Journal '  himself.  As  his  doing  so  would  give  me  a  le 
gal  claim  upon  him,  and  enable  me  to  recover  something 
from  him,  I  allowed  him  to  issue  one  number,  but  it  is 
doubtful  whether  he  issues  another.  Mr.  Homans,  the 
publisher,  with  whom  I  had  agreed  to  undertake  the 
publication  of  the  Journal,  is  an  educated  man  and  a 
thorough  good  fellow,  with  a  very  extensive  book-selling 
connection.  He  is  still  desirous  of  taking  hold  of  the 
'  Journal,'  and  has  made  me  a  very  liberal  offer  to  go  on 
with  him  if  he  can  purchase  Bisco's  share.  But  I  do  not 
yet  know  how  the  affair  will  terminate. 

"  Poe's  mother-in-law  told  me  that  he  was  quite  tipsy 
the  day  that  you  called  upon  him,  and  that  he  acted 
very  strangely ;  but  I  perceived  nothing  of  it  when  I 
saw  him  in  the  morning.  He  was  to  have  delivered  a 
poem  before  the  societies  of  the  New  York  University 
a  few  weeks  since,  but  drunkenness  prevented  him.  I 
believe  he  had  not  drank  anything  for  more  than  eight 
een  months  until  within  the  past  three  months,  but  in 
this  time  he  has  been  very  frequently  carried  home  in  a 


236  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

wretched  condition.  I  am  sorry  for  him.  He  has  some 
good  points,  but,  taken  altogether,  he  is  badly  made  up. 
I  was  deceived  by  his  superficial  talents  when  I  first  met 
him,  and  relied  too  much  upon  the  high  opinion  which 
you  had  expressed  of  him.  His  learning  is  very  much 
like  that  of  the  famous  Mr.  Jenkinson  in  the  '  Vicar  of 
Wakefield.'  He  talks  about  dactyls  and  spondees  with 
surprising  glibness ;  and  the  names  of  metres  being 
caviare  to  nine  men  out  of  ten,  he  has  gained  a  reputa 
tion  for  erudition  at  a  very  cheap  rate.  He  makes  quo 
tations  from  the  German,  but  he  can't  read  a  word  of 
the  language."  l 

Some    further   explanation   of    the   matter  was 
given  August  1 :  — 

"I  did  not  give  you  sufficient  particulars  to  enable 
you  to  understand  my  difficulties  with  Bisco  and  Poe. 
Neither  has  done  anything  without  my  full  consent, 
and  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of  but  their  mean 
ness,  which  they  could  n't  help.  I  had  told  P.  a  month 
before  that  I  should  drop  his  name  from  the  *  Journal.' 
He  said  I  might  keep  it  there  if  I  wanted  to,  although 
he  intended  to  go  into  the  country  and  devote  his  time 
to  getting  up  books,  and  would  not  therefore  be  able  to 
assist  me.  I  had  also  told  Bisco  that  I  would  have 
nothing  more  to  do  with  him  after  the  close  of  the  first 
volume,  and  that  I  would  not  carry  it  on  unless  I  could 
find  a  publisher  to  my  mind.  I  did  find  such  a  pub 
lisher,  and  Bisco,  thinking  that  I  was  very  anxious  to  go 
on  with  it,  was  more  exacting  in  his  demands  for  his 
share  of  the  '  Journal '  than  I  thought  just,  so  I  told  him 
i  Briggs  to  Lowell,  July  16,  1845.  MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  237 

I  would  not  take  it ;  and  he,  thinking  to  spite  me,  and 
Poe,  thinking  to  glorify  himself  in  having  overmastered 
me,  agreed  to  go  on  with  it.  I  laughed  at  their  folly, 
and  told  them  to  go  ahead ;  but  I  still  hold  the  same 
right  that  I  ever  did,  and  could  displace  them  both  if  I 
wished  to  do  so.  But  seeing  so  much  poltroonery  and 
littleness  in  the  business  gave  me  a  disgust  to  it,  and  I 
let  them  alone,  hoping  to  get  back  from  Bisco  some 
money  which  I  had  advanced  him."  * 

Three  weeks  later  he  wrote  a  characterization  of 
Poe  more  in  detail :  — 

"  You  have  formed  a  correct  estimate  of  Poe's  charac 
terless  character.  I  have  never  met  a  person  so  utterly 
deficient  of  high  motive.  He  cannot  conceive  of  any 
body's  doing  anything,  except  for  his  own  personal  ad 
vantage  ;  and  he  says,  with  perfect  sincerity,  and  entire 
unconsciousness  of  the  exposition  which  it  makes  of  his 
own  mind  and  heart,  that  he  looks  upon  all  reformers  as 
madmen ;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  he  is  so  great 
an  egoist.  He  cannot  conceive  why  the  world  should 
not  feel  an  interest  in  whatever  interests  him,  because  he 
feels  no  interest  himself  in  what  does  not  personally  con 
cern  him.  Therefore,  he  attributes  all  the  favor  which 
Longfellow,  yourself,  or  anybody  else  receives  from  the 
world  as  an  evidence  of  the  ignorance  of  the  world,  and 
the  lack  of  that  favor  in  himself  he  attributes  to  the 
world's  malignity.  It  is  too  absurd  for  belief,  but  he 
really  thinks  that  Longfellow  owes  his  fame  mainly  to  the 
ideas  which  he  has  borrowed  from  his  (Poe's)  writings  in 
the  '  Southern  Literary  Messenger.'  His  presumption  is 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell.    MS. 


238  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

beyond  the  liveliest  imagination.  He  has  no  reverence  for 
Homer,  Shakespeare,  or  Milton,  but  thinks  that  '  Orion ' 
is  the  greatest  poem  in  the  language.  He  has  too  much 
prudence  to  put  his  opinions  into  print,  —  or,  rather,  he 
can  find  nobody  impudent  enough  to  print  them,  —  but 
he  shows  himself  in  his  private  converse.  The  Bible,  he 
says,  is  all  rigmarole.  As  to  his  Greek,  —  you  might  see 
very  well  if  it  were  put  in  your  eye.  He  does  not  read 
Wordsworth,  and  knows  nothing  about  him."  1 

As  has  been  incidentally  mentioned  above,  the 
"Journal"  was  suspended  for  one  week;  and  when 
the  first  number  of  the  second  volume  appeared,  a 
week  later,  it  bore  Poe's  name  as  sole  editor.  Since 
he  describes  himself  as  "  one  third  proprietor,"  in 
his  old  terms,  it  seems  probable  that  he  agreed  to 
go  on  with  Bisco  for  one  third  of  the  profits,  just 
as  before,  but  having  entire  charge.  Bisco  himself 
declares  that  he  meant  to  get  rid  of  Briggs,  and,  in 
order  to  do  so,  took  up  with  Poe.  There  was  from 
the'  first  some  financial  tangle  between  the  parties, 
which,  fortunately,  there  is  no  need  to  unravel. 
The  result  of  the  difference  was  to  install  Poe  in 
full  control.  One  of  his  acts  was  to  have  a  fling 
at  Briggs,  in  connection  with  which  our  last  ex 
tract  from  the  latter's  correspondence  has  its  in 
terest  :  — 

"  You  take  Poe's  niaiseries  too  seriously.  I  only  cared 
for  his  unhandsome  allusion  to  me  in  the  B.  J.  because 
it  proved  him  a  baser  man  than  I  thought  him  before. 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell,  August  21,  1845.     MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  289 

.  .  .  The  truth  is  that  I  have  not  given  him  the  shadow 
of  a  cause  for  ill-feeling  ;  on  the  contrary  he  owes  me 
now  for  money  that  I  lent  him  to  pay  his  board  and  keep 
him  from  being  turned  into  the  street.  But  he  knows  that 
I  am  possessed  of  the  secret  of  his  real  character  and  he 
no  doubt  hates  me  for  it.  Until  it  was  absolutely  neces 
sary  for  me  to  expose  some  of  his  practices  to  save  my 
self  from  contempt  I  never  breathed  a  syllable  of  his  ill 
habits,  but  I  tried  in  vain  to  hide  them  from  observation 
out  of  pure  compassion,  for  I  had  not  known  him  long 
before  I  lost  all  respect  for  him  and  felt  a  loathing  dis 
gust  for  his  habits.  I  did  not  much  blame  him  for  the 
matter  of  his  remarks  about  Jones,  although  the  manner 
of  them  was  exceeding  improper  and  unjust ;  the  real 
cause  of  his  ire  was  Jones'  neglecting  to  enumerate  him 
among  the  humorous  writers  of  the  country,  for  he  has 
an  inconceivably  extravagant  idea  of  his  capacities  as  a 
humorist.  The  last  conversation  I  had  with  Poe  he  used 
all  his  power  of  eloquence  in  persuading  me  to  join  him 
in  the  joint  editor-ship  of  the  '  Stylus.'  "  l 

Poe  remained  simply  editor,  with  his  third  in 
terest  for  pay,  until  October.  In  the  first  number 
of  his  editing  was  a  review  of  his  own  "  Tales,"  2  just 
published  by  Wiley  and  Putnam  as  No.  2  in  their 

1  Briggs  to  Lowell,  October  13,  1845.     MS. 

2  Tales.    By  Edgar  A.  Poe.     New  York :    Wiley  and  Putnam. 
1845.   Pp.  228.     The  contents  are,  in  order:  The  Gold  Bug,  The 
Black  Cat,  Mesmeric  Revelations,  Lionizing,  The  Fall  of  the  House 
of  Usher,  The  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom,  The  Colloquy  of  Monos 
and  Una,  The  Conversation  of  Eiros  and  Charmion,  The  Murders 
of  the  Rue  Morgue,  the  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget,  The  Purloined 
Letter,  The  Man  in  the  Crowd. 


240  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"  Library  of  American  Books,"  and  edited  by  Duy- 
ckinck,  who  certainly  had  selected  from  Poe's  num 
erous  and  uneven  stories  those  on  which  his  fame 
has  proved  itself  to  be  founded.  Poe,  however, 
declared  in  private,  "Those  selected  are  not  my 
best,  nor  do  they  fairly  represent  me  in  any  re 
spect."  l  He  meant  that  they  were  too  much  of  one 
kind,  whereas  he  had  aimed  at  diversity  in  his 
writings ;  in  other  words,  the  grotesque  tales  were 
slighted,  and  hence  the  universality  of  his  genius 
and  the  versatility  of  his  talents  were  not  illus 
trated.  During  the  first  months  of  his  editorship 
he  reprinted,  as  before,  his  old  tales,  occasionally 
somewhat  revised :  "  How  to  Write  a  Black  wood  Ar 
ticle,"  "The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death,"  "The 
Literary  Life  of  Thingum-Bob,"  "  The  Business 
Man,"  "  The  Man  who  was  Used  Up,"  "  Never  Bet 
the  Devil  your  Head,"  "The  Tell-Tale  Heart," 
"  William  Wilson,"  "  Why  the  Little  Frenchman 
wears  his  Hand  in  a  Sling,"  "  The  Landscape  Gar 
den,"  "  The  Tale  of  Jerusalem,"  "  The  Island  of  the 
Fay,"  "  MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle,"  "  The  Due  d'Ome- 
lette,"  2  "  King  Pest,"  2  "  The  Power  of  Words," 
and  "Diddling  Considered  as  one  of  the  Fine 
Arts."  Of  his  poetry  he  used  "  The  Coliseum," 
"Zante,"  "Israfel,"  " Silence,"  3  " Science,"  "Bridal 
Ballad,"  "Eulalie,"  "  Leiiore," 2  "A  Dream,"3 
"Catholic  Hymn,"4  "Romance,"3  "City  in  the 

1  Poe  to .      Ingram,  ii.  24. 

2  Signed  "  Littleton  Barry."        3  Signed  P.        *  Signed  J. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  241 

Sea,"  "To  the  River ,"  "The  Valley  of  Un 
rest,"  "  To  F ,"  «  To "  i  («  The  bowers 

whereat  "),  "  Song  "  l  ("  I  saw  thee  "),  and  "  Fairy 
land  ;  "  2  of  criticism  there  was  nothing  noteworthy 
except  a  flattering  review  of  Hirst  and  a  satirical 
one  of  Hoyt,  both  poetasters. 

In  October  occurred  one  of  the  best  known  in 
cidents  of  Poe's  life.  In  the  summer  he  had  visited 
Boston,  and  now  was  invited  to  give  a  poem  before 
the  Boston  Lyceum  (it  will  be  remembered  that 
Lowell  had  at  Poe's  request  formerly  interested 
himself  to  obtain  an  engagement  for  him  to  lecture 
before  the  same  organization),  and  he  accepted. 
On  the  evening  appointed,  October  16,  a  lecture, 
which  was  the  second  of  the  course,  having  been 
given  by  Caleb  Gushing,  Poe  came  forward  on  the 
platform  of  the  Odeon,  and  after  some  prefatory 
remarks  about  the  foolishness  of  didacticism  read 
"  Al  Aaraaf."  The  audience,  the  hour  being  late, 
began  to  disperse,  but  enough  persons  remained  to 
enjoy  his  recitation  of  "  The  Raven,"  with  which 
the  entertainment  closed.  Whatever  was  the  cause, 
Poe  disappointed  his  audience,  and  afterwards 
some  Boston  papers  commented  somewhat  severely 
on  the  performance,  especially  when  the  truth  came 
out  that  the  poem  given  was  a  juvenile  production, 
written  years  before.  Poe,  when  he  returned  to 
New  York,  declared  that  he  had  acted  of  malice 
prepense. 

i  Unsigned.  *  Signed    +  -f. 

16 


242  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

"It  would  scarcely  be  supposed  that  we  would  put 
ourselves  to  the  trouble  of  composing  for  the  Bostonians 
anything  in  the  shape  of  an  original  poem.  We  did  not. 
"We  had  a  poem  (of  about  five  hundred  lines)  lying  by 
us  —  one  quite  as  good  as  new  —  one  at  all  events,  that 
we  considered  would  answer  sufficiently  well  for  an  au 
dience  of  transcendentalists.  That  we  gave  them  —  it 
was  the  best  that  we  had  —  for  the  price  —  and  it  did 
answer  remarkably  well.  Its  name  was  not  "  The  Mes 
senger  Star  "  —  who  but  Miss  Walters  would  ever  think  of 
so  delicious  a  little  bit  of  invention  as  that  ?  We  had  no 
name  for  it  at  all.  The  poem  is  what  is  occasionally  called 
a  '  juvenile  poem  '  —  but  the  fact  is,  it  is  anything  but 
juvenile  now,  for  we  wrote  it,  printed  it,  and  published 
it,  in  book  form,  before  we  had  fairly  completed  our 
{ tenth  year.  We  read  it  verbatim,  from  a  copy  now  in 
our  possession,  and  which  we  shall  be  happy  to  show  at 
any  moment  to  any  of  our  inquisitive  friends."  1  .  .  . 

The  audacity  of  this  last  claim  to  precocity  of 
genius,  which  would  make  Poe  ten  years  younger 
than  he  was,  is  almost  burlesque.  He  goes  on  to 
say,  "  Over  a  bottle  of  champagne  that  night,  we 
confessed  to  Messrs.  Gushing,  Whipple,  Hudson, 
Field,  and  a  few  other  natives  who  swear  not  al 
together  by  the  frog-pond  —  we  confessed,  we  say, 
the  soft  impeachment  of  the  hoax." 

This  was  Poe's  explanation,  given  in  the  course 

of  an  article,  destitute  of  any  gentlemanly  trait, 

in  reply  to  Miss  Walters,   of   the  "  Transcript," 

whose   name  had  before  been  the  target   for  his 

1  The  Broadway  Journal,  November  1,  1845. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  243 

shafts.  One  would  say  that  pique  rather  than  de 
light  was  roused  in  him  by  the  success  of  what 
has  been  called  his  "  mischief-making  "  expedition 
to  Boston.  The  fact  probably  was,  as  originally 
stated  by  Griswold,  that  Poe  had  undertaken  an 
engagement,  and  being  unable  to  write  a  poem  for 
such  an  occasion  he  resorted  to  his  old  composi 
tions,  and  selected  "  Al  Aaraaf  "  as  the  most  avail 
able.  He  may  have  felt  some  doubt  as  to  how  the 
audience  would  take  it,  but  he  had  none  as  to  the 
excellence  of  his  poem.  His  elaborate  explana 
tion  of  his  motives  was  an  afterthought. 

Just  at  this  time  occurred  the  singular  transac 
tion  by  which  Poe  became  sole  proprietor  of  the 
"  Journal "  October  24.  Mr.  Bisco  says  that  he 
made  over  his  rights  to  Poe  for  the  consideration 
of  a  promissory  note  for  $50,  signed  by  Poe,  and 
indorsed  by  Horace  Greeley,  who  had  at  one  time 
written  on  political  topics  for  the  paper ;  and  when 
it  came  due  Bisco  collected  it,  as  was  to  be  antici 
pated,  from  the  indorser.  Greeley  himself  refers 
to  this  incident,  with  sharp  pleasantry :  — 

"  A  gushing  youth  once  wrote  me  to  this  effect : 
1  DEAR  SIR,  —  Among  your  literary  treasures,  you 
have  doubtless  preserved  several  autographs  of  our  coun 
try's  late  lamented  poet,  Edgar  A.  Poe.  If  so,  and  you 
can  spare  one,  please  inclose  it  to  me,  and  receive  the 
thanks  of  yours  truly.' 

I  promptly  responded  as  follows  :  — 

*  DEAR  SIR,  —  Among   my  literary   treasures,  there 


244  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

happens  to  be  exactly  one  autograph  of  our  country's 
late  lamented  poet,  Edgar  A.  Poe.  It  is  his  note  of 
hand  for  fifty  dollars,  with  my  indorsement  across  the 
back.  It  cost  me  exactly  $50.75  (including  protest), 
and  you  may  have  it  for  half  that  amount.  Yours, 
respectfully.' 

That  autograph,  I  regret  to  say,  remains  on  my 
hands,  and  is  still  for  sale  at  first  cost,  despite 
the  lapse  of  time  and  the  depreciation  of  our  cur 
rency."  i 

Thus  Poe  at  last  owned  and  edited  the  "  Jour 
nal,"  but  he  needed  capital  to  run  it.  In  August 
he  had  written  to  Neilson  Poe,2  with  whom  he  had 
reestablished  connections,  that  he  should  start  a 
magazine  in  January ;  but  this  was  probably  only 
a  chance  reference  to  the  "  Stylus,"  which  he  was 
always  trying  to  float.  At  present  he  devoted 
himself  to  raising  further  funds  to  pay  the  current 
bills  of  the  paper.  Among  Griswold's  letters,  the 
authenticity  of  which  cannot  be  fairly  doubted,  is 
one  written  two  days  after  the  "  Journal  "  passed 
into  Poe's  hands.  But  before  citing  this  it  should 
be  remarked  that  Poe  and  his  future  biographer 
had  now  become  reconciled,  and  wore  at  least  the 
show  of  amity  until  Poe's  death.  The  occasion 
of  their  renewal  of  acquaintance  was  Griswold's 
"  Prose  Writers  of  America,"  in  which  Poe  wished 
for  notice.  Soon  after  the  first  exchange  of  letters 

1  Recollections  of  a  Busy  Life.     By  Horace  Greeley  :  pp.  196, 
197. 

2  Poe  to  Neilson  Poe,  August  8,  1845.    MS. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  245 

Poe  sent  him  his  poems  to  be  edited,  and  at  a  later 
date  he  reminded  him  of  the  many  times  he  had 
spoken  favorably  of  him,  and  gave  as  the  reason 
for  the  personal  attack  in  the  Philadelphia  lecture 
the  fact  that  some  one  had  ascribed  to  Griswold 
the  "  beastly  article  "  to  which  reference  has  al 
ready  been  made. 

On  October  26,  1845,  at  any  rate,  Poe  felt  suf 
ficiently  sure  of  Griswold's  favor  to  make  a  request : 

MY  DEAR  GRISWOLD  :  Will  you  aid  me  at  a  pinch  — 
at  one  of  the  greatest  pinches  conceivable  ?  If  you  will, 
I  will  be  indebted  to  you  for  life.  After  a  prodigious 
deal  of  maneuvering,  I  have  succeeded  in  getting  "  The 
Broadway  Journal "  entirely  within  my  own  control.  It 
will  be  a  fortune  to  me  if  I  can  hold  it  —  and  I  can 
do  it  easily  with  a  very  trifling  aid  from  my  friends. 
May  I  count  you  as  one  ?  Lend  me  $50,  and  you  shall 
never  have  cause  to  regret  it. 

Truly  yours, 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

In  reply  to  this  he  apparently  received  twenty- 
five  dollars  at  once,  and  as  much  more  on  the  first 
of  December ;  but,  the  lack  of  capital  continuing  to 
be  a  pressing  trouble,  he  wrote  to  his  cousin,  George 
Poe,  touching  the  same  matter :  — 

NEW  YORK,  November  30,  '45. 

DEAR  SIR,  — 

Since  the  period  when  (no  doubt  for  good  reasons) 
you  declined  aiding  me  with  the  loan  of  $50,  I  have 
1  Griswold,  xxi.,  xxii. 


246  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

perseveringly  struggled  against  a  thousand  difficulties, 
and  have  succeeded,  although  not  in  making  money,  still 
in  attaining  a  position  in  the  world  of  letters,  of  which, 
under  the  circumstances,  I  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed. 

For  these  reasons  —  because  I  feel  that  I  have  exerted 
myself  to  the  utmost  —  and  because  I  believe  that  you 
will  appreciate  my  efforts  to  elevate  the  family  name  — 
I  now  appeal  to  you  once  more  for  aid. 

With  this  letter  I  send  you  a  number  of  "  The  Broad 
way  Journal,"  of  which,  hitherto,  I  have  been  merely 
editor,  and  one  third  proprietor.  I  have  lately  pur 
chased  the  whole  paper,  and,  if  I  can  retain  it,  it  will  be 
a  fortune  to  me  in  a  short  time  ;  —  but  I  have  exhausted 
all  my  resources  in  the  purchase.  In  this  emergency  I 
have  thought  that  you  might  not  be  indisposed  to  assist 
me. 

I  refrain  from  saying  any  more  —  for  I  feel  that  if 
your  heart  is  kindly  disposed  toward  me,  I  have  already l 
[Rest,  with  signature,  cut  off.] 

While  these  embarrassments  were  annoying  him, 
Poe  used  his  paper  for  the  reproduction  of  his 
works  as  formerly,  and  before  the  end  of  the  year 
he  had  reprinted  "  Some  Words  with  a  Mummy," 
"  The  Devil  in  the  Belfry,"  "  A  Tale  of  the  Kagged 
Mountains,"  "  Four  Beasts  in  One,"  "  The  Oblong 
Box,"  "  Mystification,"  "  Loss  of  Breath,"  2  and 
one  not  elsewhere  published,  so  far  as  is  known, 
"  The  Spectacles,"  an  extremely  weak  piece  of  hu 
mor,  which  Home  had  tried  to  get  printed  in  Eng- 

1  Poe  to  George  Poe,  November  30,  1845.    MS. 

2  Signed  "  Littleton  Barry." 


IN  NEW   YORK.  247 

land  without  success.  The  poetry  had  been  ex 
hausted  before  this  date,  all  of  it  having  been  put 
into  the  printer's  hands  in  September. 

The  "  Journal  "  showed  vigorous  management ; 
its  advertisements  had  been  largely  increased,  and 
its  circulation  is  said  to  have  doubled.  The  last 
numbers  of  December  are  full  of  promises  regard 
ing  the  future ;  but  George  Poe  not  responding, 
the  Greeley  note  becoming  due,  and  obliging  friends 
being  now  obdurate,  the  demise  of  the  paper  sud 
denly  took  place.  On  December  26  was  published 


the  following :  — 


VALEDICTORY. 


Unexpected  engagements  demanding  my  whole  atten 
tion,  and  the  objects  being  fulfilled  so  far  as  regards  my 
self  personally,  for  which  "  The  Broadway  Journal " 
was  established,  I  now,  as  its  editor,  bid  farewell  —  as 
cordially  to  foes  as  to  friends. 

EDGAR  A.  POE. 

What  other  objects  Poe  achieved,  except  the  re- 
publication  of  nearly  all  the  narrative  prose  he  had 
ever  written,  and  of  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
poems,  it  is  hard  to  see.  One  more  number  is  said 
to  have  been  issued,  January  3,  under  the  editor 
ship  of  Thomas  Dunn  English,  with  which  the 
"Journal"  expired. 

Just  at  the  close  of  the  year,  apparently  on  No 
vember  31,  Poe's  collected  poems  had  been  issued 
by  Wiley  and  Putnam,  under  the  title  "  The  Ra- 


248  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

ven  and  Other  Poems."  1  The  volume  contained 
nearly  all  the  poetry  he  had  ever  written,  and  the 
versions  are  those  now  established  in  the  text.  In 
the  preface  he  speaks  in  dispraise  of  his  work,  say 
ing  that  he  thinks  nothing  in  this  volume  of  much 
value  to  the  public,  or  very  creditable  to  himself. 
"  Events  not  to  be  controlled,"  he  continues,  in  the 
well-known  words,  "  have  prevented  me  from  mak 
ing  at  any  time  any  serious  effort  in  what,  under 
happier  circumstances,  would  have  been  the  field 
of  my  choice.  With  me  poetry  has  been  not  a  pur 
pose,  but  a  passion ;  and  the  passions  should  be 
held  in  reverence ;  they  must  not  —  they  cannot  at 
will  be  excited,  with  an  eye  to  the  paltry  compen 
sations,  or  the  more  paltry  commendations,  of  man 
kind."  2 

The  poems  which  this  proud  apology  prefaced 
comprise  the  poetic  labors  of  their  author  up  to  the 

1  The  Raven  and  Other  Poems.    By  Edgar  A.  Poe.    New  York : 
Wiley  and  Putnam.     1845.     The  contents  were,  in  order,  The 
Raven,  Valley  of  Unrest,  Bridal  Ballad,  The  Sleeper,  The  Coli 
seum,  Lenore,  Catholic  Hymn,  Israfel,  Dream-land,  Sonnet  —  To 
Zante,  City  in  the  Sea,  To  One  in  Paradise,  Eulalie  —  A  Song,  To 

F s  S.  0 d,  To   F ,  Sonnet  —  Silence,    The  Conqueror 

Worm,  The  Haunted  Palace,  Scenes   from   "  Politian."      Then 
followed,  with   the  foot-note   still  published,   Poems    in  Youth  : 
Sonnet  —  To  Science,   Al   Aaraaf,   Tamerlane,   A   Dream,   l\o- 

mance,  Fairy-land,  To ,  To  the  River ,  The  Lake  —  To 

,  Song,  To   Helen.      It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  the 

youthful  poems  are  not  printed  exactly  "  verbatim,  without  alter 
ation  from  the  original  edition,"  but  the  changes,  nevertheless, 
are  not  important. 

2  Works,  i.  4. 


7^-  NEW   YORK.  249 

close  of  this  year,  and  although  a  few  were  to  be 
added  before  his  death,  they  illustrate  fully  his  po 
etic  powers.  In  attempting  an  estimate  of  their 
worth,  it  is  only  just  to  recur  once  more  to  the  the 
ory  which  Poe  had  now  completely  developed  re 
garding  the  aims  and  scope  of  poetry ;  for  it  is  his 
own  comment  on  his  own  text.  To  put  it  in  the 
fewest  words,  Poe  believed  that  of  the  pleasures 
that  spring  from  Truth,  which  satisfies  the  intellect, 
or  from  Passion,  which  excites  the  heart,  or  from 
Beauty,  which  elevates  the  soul,  the  latter  is  the 
most  pure,  keen,  and  absorbing  ;  and  this  because 
it  appeals  to  that  sense  of  harmony  and  feeds  that 
yearning  for  its  manifestation  which  belongs  to  the 
immortal  part  of  man.  In  the  moods  aroused 
through  the  sentiment  of  beauty  man  is  most  clearly 
conscious  of  his  eternal  nature,  and  in  the  lifting  up 
of  his  spirit  under  such  influences  penetrates  (so 
Poe  thought)  to  the  divine.  This  subtle  power  is 
possessed  by  all  beauty  in  its  sensible  forms  as  built 
by  God  in  nature;  but  the  suggestions  of  some 
thing  fairer  beyond  and  above  nature,  which  arise 
in  its  presence,  stimulate  man  to  attempt  to  reach 
this  unknown  loveliness  by  recombining  the  ele 
ments  he  perceives,  and  thus  in  imagination  (which 
repeats  the  creative  act  of  God)  to  fashion  by  art, 
under  the  guidance  of  his  own  instinct,  an  ideal 
beauty  which  shall  be  a  new  and  purer  source  of 
spiritual  emotion.  This  creation  of  beauty  is  the 
end  of  all  the  fine  arts,  but  in  music  and  in  poetry 


250  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

it  is  most  directly  accomplished.  It  would,  how 
ever,  be  an  error  to  suppose  that  Poe,  in  thus  adopt 
ing  the  doctrines  of  Coleridge  and  rejecting  passion 
and  truth  and  morality  as  poetic  themes,  meant  to 
sever  poetry  by  distinct  boundaries  from  those  re 
gions  of  life  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  expressly  states 
that  "the  incitements  of  Passion,  the  precepts  of 
Duty,  and  even  the  lessons  of  Truth  "  may  be  ad 
vantageously  introduced  into  a  poem,  if  they  are 
only  subordinated  and  blended  in  by  the  skill  of 
the  artist  who  understands  how  to  use  them  for  the 
heightening  of  the  effect  of  mere  beauty ;  and  fur 
thermore,  it  should  be  observed  that  to  beauty  itself 
Poe  assigns  both  a  moral  value,  as  lending  attrac 
tion  to  virtue,  and  an  intellectual  value,  as  leading 
out  to  the  mystical  province  of  that  truth  which, 
withdrawn  from  the  probing  of  the  reason,  is  fath 
omed  by  the  imagination  alone.  Such  a  specula 
tion  may  be  regarded  as  a  baseless  reverie  or  as 
,  profound  philosophy  ;  but  it  is  essential  to  keep  in 
I  mind  the  fact  not  only  that  Poe  made  beauty  the 
i  theme  of  poetry,  but  also  that  he  found  its  value  in 
intimations  of  the  divine  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that 
he  was  devoted  to  a  mystical  aBstheticism.  Of  the 
minor  articles  of  his  creed  it  is  necessary  to  recall 
only  those  which  assert  that  a  poem  should  be  brief ; 
should  aim  at  a  single  artistic  effect,  but  not  to  the 
exclusion  of  a  secondary  suggested  meaning ;  and 
should  be  touched,  if  possible,  by  a  certain  quaint- 
iiess,  grotesqueness,  or  peculiarity  of  rhythm  or 
metre,  to  give  it  tone. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  251 

One  who  reflects  upon  the  character  of  mind 
implied  by  the  holding  of  this  theory,  the  elements 
of  which  assimilated  and  united  only  very  slowly  in 
Poe's  case,  cannot  be  surprised  at  the  objections  or 
dinarily  urged  against  Poe's  verses.  They  are  said 
to  be  vague,  destitute  of  ideas,  insubstantial,  un 
real,  full  of  artifice,  and  trenching  on  the  domain 
of  music.  That  these  phrases  accurately  describe 
the  impression  made  by  the  poems  on  many  minds 
by  no  means  strangers  to  the  poetic  sentiment 
may  be  granted  without  hesitation  ;  and  if  any  one 
maintains  that  from  certain  points  of  view  such 
words  are  justly  applied,  it  would  be  futile  to  dis 
sent.  The  diversity  of  criticism  upon  Poe's  verse 
is  largely  due  to  the  assumption  that  it  can  be 
measured  intelligibly  by  any  other  than  his  own 
standard.  The  poet  strives,  Poe  thought,  to  bring 
about  in  others  the  state  felt  in  himself ;  and  in 
his  own  case  that  was  one  of  brooding  reverie,  a 
sort  of  emotional  possession,  full  of  presentiment, 
expectancy,  and  invisible  suggestion,  the  mood  that 
is  the  habitat  of  superstition  ;  vagueness  was  the 
very  hue  in  which  he  painted.  Again,  if  in  his 
prose  tales  he  declares  repeatedly  that  he  meant 
not  to  tell  a  story,  but  to  produce  an  effect,  much 
more  is  it  to  be  thought  that  in  poetry  he  aimed 
not  to  convey  an  idea,  but  to  make  an  impression. 
He  was  not  a  philosopher  nor  a  lover ;  he  never 
served  truth  nor  knew  passion  ;  he  was  a  dreamer, 
and  his  life  was,  warp  and  woof,  mood  and  sen 


252  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

ment  instead  of  act  and  thought.  When  he  came 
to  poetic  expression  which  must  needs  be  the  gen 
uine  manifestation  of  the  soul's  secret,  he  had  no 
wisdom  and  no  romance  to  disclose,  of  any  earthly 
reality,  and  he  was  forced  to  bring  out  his  meagre 
store  of  visionary  facts,  to  which  his  random  and 
morbid  feelings  alone  gave  credibility.  To  say  of 
such  works  that  they  are  destitute  of  ideas  and 
insubstantial  is  not  criticism,  —  it  is  mere  de 
scription.  Even  for  that  slight  framework  of  the 
things  of  sense  which  Poe  had  to  shape  in  order  to 
allegorize  his  moods  at  all,  he  seems  but  little  in 
debted  to  nature.  The  purely  imaginary  character 
of  his  landscape  has  been  touched  on,  again  and 
again,  hitherto  ;  it  is  indicative  of  the  obvious  fact 
that  he  never  regarded  nature  as  anything  but  the 
crucible  of  his  fancies.  To  qualify  his  conceptions 
as  unreal  is  merely  to  gather  into  a  colorless  word 
the  quivering  eastern  valley,  the  flaming  city  isled 
in  darkness,  the  angel-thronged,  star-lighted  thea 
tre  of  the  Worm's  conquest,  the  wind-blown  king 
dom  by  the  sea,  the  Titanic  cypress  alley,  the  night's 
Plutonian  shore,  or  any  other  of  those  dim  tracts, 

"  Out  of  space,  out  of  time," 

where  his  spirit  wandered.  So,  too,  if  any  one 
presses  the  charge  of  artifice  home,  it  must  be  al 
lowed  just,  though  it  attaches  only  to  the  later 
poems  and  is  the  excess  of  art.  No  poet  was  ever 
less  spontaneous  in  excellence  than  Poe.  When 
one  reads,  at  successive  stages  of  his  career,  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  253 

same  old  stanzas  in  new  versions,  and  notices  how 
they  grew  out  of  rudeness  of  many  different  de 
scriptions  into  such  perfection  as  they  reached,  he 
perceives  before  him  an  extraordinary  example  of 
growth  in  the  knowledge  and  exercise  of  the  poetic 
art,  —  the  pulse  of  the  machine  laid  bare.  The 
changes  are  minute  and  almost  innumerable,  the  ap 
proaches  to  perfection  are  exceedingly  gradual,  the 
last  draft  is  sometimes  only  slightly  related  to  the 
earliest ;  but  —  and  this  is  the  point  that  proves 
Poe  primarily  a  careful  artist  rather  than  an  in 
spired  poet  —  in  every  instance  the  alteration  is 
judicious,  the  step  is  a  step  forward.  One  who 
achieves  success  mainly  by  self  -  training  in  art 
comes  to  rely  on  art  overmuch ;  and  so  he  degen 
erates  into  artifice,  or  visible  art,  puts  his  faith  in 
mechanism,  and  trusts  his  fame  to  cogs  and  levers 
of  words  and  involutions  of  sounds;  or  it  may 
happen,  as  was  perhaps  finally  the  case  with  Poe, 
that  a  weakened  mind  keeps  facility  with  the  tools 
when  the  work  slips  from  its  grasp.  At  least,  so 
much  truth  lies  in  this  last  objection  of  the  arti 
ficiality  of  Poe's  work  as  to  justify  the  more  gen 
erous  statement  that  he  was,  in  verse  as  in  prose, 
essentially  a  skillful  literary  artist.  And  further 
more,  music  was  an  essential  element  of  his  art.  It 
is  true  that  his  ear  for  verbal  melody  was  at  first 
very  defective,  and  was  never  perfect,  but  in  much 
of  his  best  work  the  rhythmic  movement  is  faultless 
in  its  flow  and  its  simplicity.  This  is  not,  however, 


254  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

all  that  is  meant  by  saying  that  he  borrowed  effects 
from  music.  In  his  verses  sonorousness  counts  in 
dependently  of  its  relation  to  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  and  the  poem  seems  at  intervals  to  become 
merely  a  volume  of  sound,  in  which  there  is  no  ap 
peal  to  the  mind  at  all,  but  only  a  stimulation  of 
the  feelings  as  by  the  tones  of  an  instrument.  In 
the  management  of  the  theme,  too,  particularly  in 
his  later  verse,  the  handling  of  the  refrain,  the  re 
currence  to  the  same  vocal  sounds  and  the  same  or 
der  of  syllabic  structure,  the  movement  of  the  whole 
poem  by  mere  new  presentations  of  the  one  idea,  as 
in  u  The  Raven,"  or  of  the  same  group  of  imagery,  as 
in  "  Ulalume,"  partakes  of  the  method  of  musical 
composition.  In  these  ways  Poe  did  appropriate 
the  effects  of  music,  and  they  blended  with  the 
other  characteristics  of  his  art  as  sound  and  color 
in  nature,  to  make  that  vague  impression  on  the 
mind  of  which  he  sought  the  secret.  It  belongs  to 
his  originality  that  he  could  thus  exercise  his  mas 
tery  in  the  borderland  between  poetry  and  music, 
where  none  before  him  had  had  power. 

After  all,  to  meet  the  last  circumscription  of  his 
praise,  he  did  not  write  a  dozen  poems  of  the  best 
rank.  Those  of  his  youth,  already  sufficiently 
characterized,  were  works  of  promise  in  a  boy,  but 
they  would  not  have  made  a  bubble  as  they  sank 
in  the  waters  of  oblivion.  Of  those  composed  in 
manhood  (and  as  such  should  be  reckoned  the  pres 
ent  versions  of  "  The  Sleeper,"  "  The  Valley  of 


IN  NEW   YORK.  255 

Unrest,"  "  The  City  in  the  Sea,"  "  To  One  in  Para 
dise,"  and  possibly  "  Israfel ")  the  first  fine  one  was 
"  The  Haunted  Palace,"  nor  was  that  to  be  free 
from  later  improvements  ;  and  from  its  appearance 
until  his  death  Poe's  poems  of  the  same  level  can 
be  counted  on  the  fingers.  To  the  world,  indeed, 
he  is  the  genius  of  one  poem  only,  "  The  Raven  ;  " 
unless,  to  support  his  name,  the  fame  of  "  The 
Bells  "  and  of  "  Ulalume  "  be  added.  There  is  no 
occasion  to  examine  either  these  three  or  any  others 
of  the  dozen  that  are  justly  immortal ;  they  all  be 
long  to  the  class  of  poems  that  make  their  way  at 
once  or  not  at  all.  Yet  it  may  serve  to  define 
and  possibly  to  elucidate  Poe's  nature  if  it  be 
incidentally  noticed  that,  except  in  his  single  lyric 
"Israfel,"  the  theme  of  his  imagination  is  ruin ;  and 
that  in  the  larger  number  of  these  few  best  poems 
it  is  the  special  case  of  ruin  which  he  declared 
the  most  poetic  of  all,  —  the  death  of  a  beautiful 
woman.  It  is  of  no  concern  that  the  treatment 
was  radically  different,  so  that  in  each  instance  a 
poem  absolutely  unique  was  created ;  the  noteworthy 
fact  is,  at  present,  that  Poe's  genius  was  developed 
in  its  strength  by  brooding  over  a  fixed  idea,  as  the 
insane  do  ;  and  when,  under  great  excitement,  some 
other  mode  of  expression  was  imperative,  it  was 
found  only  in  such  objective  work  as  the  marvel 
ous  allegory  of  "  The  Conqueror  Worm,"  so  ter 
rible  in  the  very  perfection  of  its  flawless  art,  or 
in  such  spirit-broken  confession  as  that  other  alle- 


256  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

gory  of  "  The  Haunted  Palace,"  which  in  intense, 
imaginative  self-portraiture  is  scarcely  excelled  in 
literature.  The  secret  life,  the  moments  of  strong 
est  emotion,  the  hours  of  longest  reach,  implied  by 
such  motives  as  these,  make  that  impenetrable 
background  of  shadow  against  which  in  these  poems 
the  poet  stands  relieved  forever,  —  the  object  of 
deep  pity,  whether  his  sufferings  were  imaginary  or 
real,  inevitable  or  self-imposed,  the  work  of  unre- 
garding  fate  or  the  strict  retribution  of  justice. 

But  when  the  utmost  has  been  said  adversely, 
the  power  of  these  dozen  poems  is  undiminished 
even  over  those  who  admit  their  vagueness,  their 
lack  of  ideas,  their  insubstantial  and  unreal  qual 
ity,  their  sometimes  obvious  artifice,  their  likeness 
to  musical  compositions,  and  their  scant  number. 
Poe  would  himself  have  considered  such  censures 
as  praises  in  disguise,  and  scoffed  at  their  authors 
as  dull-mettled  rascals,  like  Partridge  at  the  play. 
The  power,  after  all,  remains  ;  first  and  foremost  a 
power  of  long  -  practiced  art,  but  also  of  the  spell 
itself,  of  the  forms  evoked  independently  of  the 
magic  that  compels  them,  —  a  fascination  that  makes 
the  mind  pause.  If  one  is  not  subdued  by  this,  at 
least  at  moments,  there  are  some  regions  of  mortal 
ity  unknown  to  him  ;  he  will  never  disembark  on 
No  Man's  Land.  If  one  is  not  sensible  of  the  ex 
quisite  construction  here  shown,  the  poetic  art  is  as 
much  a  mystery  to  him  as  was  Prospero's  to  Cali 
ban.  But  if  one  with  the  eye  to  see  and  the  heart 


IN  NEW   YORK.  257 

to  understand,  being  once  overcome  by  these  poems, 
continues  to  inhabit  with  the  ill  things  that  dwell 
there,  he  forgets  Poe's  own  gospel  of  the  ends  of 
art,  and  perceives  not  the  meaning  of  the  irony 
that  made  the  worshiper  of  beauty  the  poet  of  the 
outcast  soul.  If  it  be  the  office  of  poetry  to  inti 
mate  the  divine,  it  must  be  confessed  these  works 
of  Poe  intimate  the  infernal  ;  they  are  variations 
struck  on  the  chord  of  evil  that  vibrates  in  all  life, 
throbs  of  the  heart  of  pain,  echoes  of  ruin  that  float 
up  from  the  deep  within  the  deep,  the  legend  and 
pa3an  and  ritual  of  hopeless  death ;  they  belong  to 
the  confusions  of  a  superstitious  mind,  the  feebleness 
of  an  unmanned  spirit,  the  misery  of  an  impotent 
will.  Profound  in  knowledge  of  the  obscure  sources 
of  feeling ;  almost  magical  in  the  subtlety  of  their 
art ;  bold,  clear,  and  novel  in  imagination ;  ideal,  ab 
solutely  original,  married  to  music  of  the  most  allur 
ing  charm,  these  poems  fulfill  all  conditions  of  Poe's 
standard  save  one,  and  that  the  supreme  one.  They 
deserve  their  fame  ;  but,  seeing  the  gifts  of  genius 
involved  in  their  creation,  one  turns  from  the 
literary  result,  and  scans  more  narrowly  the  life  in 
which  they  were  involved. 

At  this  time  Poe  firs^t  began  to  frequent,  some 
times  in  company  with  his  invalid  wife,  but  more 
often  alone,  the  receptions  at  which  the  litterateurs 
of  the  metropolis,  particularly  the  ladies,  used  to 
meet.  These  gatherings  took  place  commonly  at 
Dr.  Orville  Dewey's,  the  eloquent  preacher ;  or  at 

17 


258  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

James  Lawson's,  distinguished  in  Poe's  mind  as  a 
man  interested  in  our  literature  although  a  Scotch 
man,  and  as  an  enthusiast  in  all  matters  of  taste 
although  himself  devoid  of  it ;  or  at  Miss  Anne 
Charlotte  Lynch's,  a  poetess  of  the  Willis  group, 
whose  weekly  receptions  in  Waverley  Place  were 
thronged  by  literary  men,  artists,  poetesses,  and 
others  of  like  pursuits.  At  such  resorts,  in  the 
midst  of  a  variously  constituted  company,  Poe 
would  sit,  dressed  in  plain  black,  but  with  the 
head,  the  broad,  retreating  white  brow,  the  large, 
luminous,  piercing  eyes,  the  impassive  lips,  that 
gave  the  visible  character  of  genius  to  his  features ; 
and  if  the  loud,  bluff  pleasantry  of  the  humorist 
physician,  Dr.  Francis,  or  the  high-keyed  declama 
tion  of  Margaret  Fuller  in  her  detested  transcen- 
dentalist  Boston  dialect,  would  permit,  he  would 
himself,  in  his  ordinary  subdued,  musical  tones  ex 
ercise  the  fascination  of  his  talk  on  women  of  lesser 
note,  among  whom  —  to  mention  only  those  that 
come  within  the  scope,  of  this  narrative  —  were 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Oakes- Smith,  once  known  as  the 
author  of  "  The  Sinless  Child  "(which  Poe  thought 
the  most  original  long  American  poem  excepting 
Maria  del  Occidente's  "  Bride  of  Seven  ")  ;  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Frieze  Ellet,  whose  hand  Poe  took  in  an 
evil  hour ;  and  Mrs.  Mary  Gove,  afterwards  Mrs. 
Nichols,  "  a  Mesmerist,  a  Swedenborgian,  a  phre 
nologist,  a  homoaopathist,  and  a  disciple  of  Priess- 
nitz,"  and,  adds  Poe,  "  what  more  I  am  not  pre- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  259 

pared  to  say." l  Notwithstanding  his  natural  reserve 
his  manners  were  pleasing,  and  his  conversation, 
although  best  when  but  one  or  two  were  present, 
must  have  been  engaging  and  impressive  even  in 
the  constraint  and  inconsequence  of  general  talk. 
Upon  women,  especially  in  these  last  years,  his 
voice  and  look  had  a  magical  power,  although  this 
was  probably  only  the  extraordinary  charm  pecul 
iar  to  the  Virginia  society  in  which  he  was  bred ; 
and,  on  his  side,  Poe  had  long  indulged  a  habit  of 
idealizing  women  and  worshiping  them  in  secret. 
An  attachment  of  this  sort  he  had  formed  for  Mrs. 
Francis  Sargent  Osgood  (a  poetess  of  thirty  and  the 
wife  of  an  American  artist),  who  On  publishing  her 
first  volume,  seven  years  before,  in  London  had 
been  taken  up  as  a  protegee,  by  Mrs.  Norton.  Poe 
had  noticed  her  verses  many  times  with  great 
favor,  and  in  his  New  York  lecture,  especially,  eulo 
gized  her  in  warm  terms.  Shortly  after  this  latter 
incident  Willis  one  day  handed  her  "  The  Raven," 
with  the  author's  request  for  her  judgment  on  it, 
and  for  an  introduction  to  herself.  She  assented, 
and  a  few  days  later  Poe  called  at  the  Astor  House 
to  see  her. 

"  I  shall  never  forget,"  she  wrote,  "  the  morning  when 
I  was  summoned  to  the  drawing-room  by  Mr.  Willis  to 
receive  him.  With  his  proud  and  beautiful  head  erect, 
his  dark  eyes  flashing  with  the  electric  light  of  feeling 
and  of  thought,  a  peculiar,  an  inimitable  blending  of 
1  Works,  ii.  65. 


260  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

sweetness  and  hauteur  in  his  expression  and  manner,  he 
greeted  me,  calmly,  gravely,  almost  coldly,  yet  with  so 
marked  an  earnestness  that  I  could  not  help  being  deeply 
impressed  by  it.  From  that  moment  until  his  death  we 
were  friends  ;  although  we  met  only  during  the  first  year 
of  our  acquaintance."  l 

The  friendship,  so  signed,  was  sealed  by  some 
verses  addressed  to  Poe,  in  the  character  of  Israf  el, 
by  Mrs.  Osgood,  and  published  in  the  "  Broadway 
Journal ; "  and  to  these  Poe  replied  with  a  third 
version  of  his  old  stanzas,  originally  written  for  lit 
tle  Eliza  White,  and  now  transparently  rededicated 

"To  Mrs.  F s  S 1  O d."     The   young 

poetess  soon  became  intimate  with  the  household  in 
Amity  Street,  then  the  place  of  their  settlement, 
and  to  her  pen  is  due  the  only  description  of  the 
family,  at  this  time,  that  has  been  preserved :  — 

"  It  was  in  his  own  simple  yet  poetical  home  that  to 
me  the  character  of  Edgar  Poe  appeared  in  its  most 
beautiful  light.  Playful,  affectionate,  witty,  alternately 
docile  and  wayward  as  a  petted  child,  for  his  young, 
gentle,  and  idolized  wife,  and  for  all  who  came,  he  had, 
even  in  the  midst  of  his  most  harassing  literary  duties, 
a  kind  word,  a  pleasant  smile,  a  graceful  and  courteous 
attention.  At  his  desk  beneath  the  romantic  picture  of 
his  loved  and  lost  Lenore,  he  would  sit,  hour  after  hour, 
patient,  assiduous,  and  uncomplaining,  tracing,  in  an  ex 
quisitely  clear  chirography  and  with  almost  superhuman 
swiftness,  the  lightning  thoughts  —  the  '  rare  and  radiant 
fancies '  —  as  they  flashed  through  his  wonderful  and 
1  Griswold,  liii. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  261 

ever-wakeful  brain.  I  recollect,  one  morning,  toward 
the  close  of  his  residence  in  this  city,  when  he  seemed 
unusually  gay  and  light-hearted.  Virginia,  his  sweet 
wife,  had  written  me  a  pressing  invitation  to  come  to 
them  ;  and  I,  who  never  could  resist  her  affectionate 
summons,  and  who  enjoyed  his  society  far  more  in  his 
own  home  than  elsewhere,  hastened  to  Amity  Street. 
I  found  him  just  completing  his  series  of  papers  entitled 
'  The  Literati  of  New  York.'  i  See,'  said  he,  displaying 
in  laughing  triumph  several  little  rolls  of  narrow  paper 
(he  always  wrote  thus  for  the  press),  '  I  am  going  to 
show  you  by  the  difference  of  length  in  these  the  differ 
ent  degrees  of  estimation  in  which  I  hold  all  you  liter 
ary  people.  In  each  of  these  one  of  you  is  rolled  up 
and  fully  discussed.  Come,  Virginia,  help  me  ! '  And 
one  by  one  they  unfolded  them.  At  last  they  came  to 
one  which  seemed  interminable.  Virginia  laughingly 
ran  to  one  corner  of  the  room  with  one  end,  and  her 
husband  to  the  opposite  with  the  other.  '  And  whose 
lengthened  sweetness  long  drawn  out  is  that  ? '  said  I. 
'  Hear  her ! '  he  cried.  '  Just  as  if  her  little  vain  heart 
did  n't  tell  her  it's  herself  I'"1 

Mrs.  Osgood  was  a  kind  friend,  and  while  her 
indulgence  in  sentimentality  is  sufficiently  evident 
in  these  reminiscences,  and  plainly  affected  her 
more  than  she  was  conscious  of,  she  was  pleased 
to  think,  with  Virginia,  that  her  influence  over 
Poe  was  for  his  good.  If  on  his  part  there  were  in 
this  Platonic  friendship,  as  she  declares,  "many 
little  poetical  episodes,  in  which  the  impassioned 

1  Griswold,  lii.-liii. 


262  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

romance  of  his  temperament  impelled  him  to  in 
dulge,"  they  were  powerless  to  disturb  the  love  and 
confidence  between  himself  and  Virginia ;  and  on 
her  own  part,  his  devoted  admirer  obtained  from 
him  a  solemn  promise  not  to  use  stimulants,  and, 
she  naively  states,  he  so  far  observed  his  word  as 
never  to  appear  before  her  when  affected  by  them. 

At  Virginia's  request  a  correspondence  arose  be 
tween  the  two,  but  fraught  with  evil  consequences ; 
for,  one  day,  after  the  Poes  had  removed  to  the 
village  of  Fordham,  whither  they  went  when  the 
cherry-trees  blossomed  in  1846,  Mrs.  Ellet,  who 
was  calling  on  them,  saw  an  open  letter  from  Mrs. 
Osgood  to  Poe,  couched  in  language  which  in  her 
judgment  required  friendly  interference.  This  lady 
consulted  with  her  friends,  and  the  scandalized 
bevy  of  interlopers  prevailed  on  Mrs.  Osgood  to 
commission  some  of  them  to  demand  the  return  of 
her  portion  of  the  too  sugared  correspondence.  It 
seems  strange  that  Mrs.  Osgood  did  not  herself 
make  the  request  quietly,  if  she  thought  she  had 
committed  herself  improperly  ;  instead  of  doing  so, 
however,  she  sent  Margaret  Fuller  and  a  compan 
ion,  who  astonished  the  poet  with  their  credentials. 
In  a  moment  of  exasperation  he  is  said  to  have  re 
marked  that  Mrs.  Ellet  had  better  come  and  look 
after  her  own  letters,  —  a  chance  word  that  seems 
to  have  canceled  all  his  considerate  flattery  of  that 
versifier  in  the  past  ten  years.  The  ladies  returned 
to  New  York  with  their  precious  bundle ;  and  Poe 


IN  NEW   YORK.  263 

says  that  he  gave  Mrs.  Ellet  her  own  packet  with 
out  awaiting  her  application,  and  hence  was  sur 
prised  when  her  brother  demanded  of  him,  a  few 
days  later,  what  he  had  no  longer  in  his  possession. 
Mrs.  Osgood  did  not  meet  Poe  after  this,  but  her 
testimony  to  his  good  qualities  was  never  lacking 
on  occasion.  She  wrote  these  reminiscences  on  her 
death-bed  to  defend  his  memory.  "  I  have  never 
seen  him,"  she  said,  "  otherwise  than  gentle,  gen 
erous,  well  bred,  and  fastidiously  refined.  To  a 
sensitive  and  delicately  nurtured  woman,  there  was 
a  peculiar  and  irresistible  charm  in  the  chivalric, 
graceful,  and  almost  tender  reverence  with  which 
he  invariably  approached  all  women  who  won  his 
respect.  It  was  this  which  first  commanded  and 
always  retained  my  regard  for  him."  1 

While  this  romance  was  verging  to  its  catas 
trophe,  Poe's  literary  work  was  the  series  of  pa 
pers  already  mentioned,  "  The  Literati  of  New 
York."  It  was  published  in  "  Godey's  Lady's 
Book,"  which  had  now  become  the  mainstay  of  his 
support,  although  he  still  occasionally  contributed 
to  "  Graham's,"  which  in  March  published  an  in 
stallment  of  "Marginalia,"  and  in  April  "The 
Philosophy  of  Composition,"  with  its  notorious 
analysis  of  the  genesis  of  "  The  Raven." 

In  "  Godey's  "  he  had  written  criticisms  in  each 
number  since  the  previous  November,  noticing  Mat 
thews,   Mrs.    Smith,    Simms,    Mrs.    Hewitt,   Mrs. 
1  Griswold,  lii. 


264  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Osgood,  and  Bryant ;  but  "  The  Literati "  was  a 
series  of  papers,  not  called  forth  by  current  books, 
but  a  sort  of  "  Autography  "  expanded,  and  prob 
ably  made  up  all  he  had  yet  written  of  his  pro 
jected  work  on  our  literature.  "  The  Literati " 
proper,  which  began  to  appear  in  May  and  contin 
ued  through  six  numbers,  dealt  with  thirty-eight 
authors  resident  in  New  York,  and  Poe  professed 
to  give  in  the  main  not  merely  his  own  opinion  of 
them,  but  that  of  literary  society  as  expressed  in 
private.  The  sketches  themselves  are  distinctly 
the  work  of  a  magazinist,  both  in  conception  and 
execution ;  in  fact,  they  are  simply  somewhat  hur 
riedly  recorded  impressions  of  literary  people  and 
their  works,  interspersed,  according  to  Poe's  inveter 
ate  habit,  with  extracts  from,  or  paraphrases  of,  his 
old  book-reviews  since  the  time  of  the  "  Messenger." 
Being  written  with  perfect  frankness,  and  in  that 
spirit  of  oblivious  indifference  to  what  the  world 
would  say  which  had  won  a  hearing  for  Poe's  criti 
cism,  the  series  was  the  literary  hit  of  the  season. 
Few  of  these  characterizations  (they  include  per 
sonal  as  well  as  literary  qualities)  are  in  any  way 
humiliating  to  their  subjects.  None,  it  is  true,  not 
even  that  of  Mrs.  Osgood,  is  unreservedly  lauda 
tory  ;  but  if  limitations  of  capacity  are  marked  out 
sharply  and  freely,  praise  is,  as  a  rule,  generously 
given  within  the  bounds.  Against  Lewis  Gaylord 
Clark,  of  "  The  Knickerbocker,"  Poe  had  an  old 
grudge,  and  just  at  this  time  Briggs  had  succeeded 


IN  NEW   YORK.  265 

to  Fay  and  Griswold  as  the  peculiar  object  of  his 
spleen  ;  but  with  these  exceptions,  although  some 
of  the  nobodies  might  have  been  nettled  at  the 
cavalier  manner  in  which  their  merits  were  circum 
scribed  or  themselves  patronized,  there  were  very 
few  with  any  just  cause  for  complaint,  since  Poe 
was  not  so  much  the  prince  of  critics  as  to  antici 
pate  exactly  the  judgment  of  posterity  by  ignoring 
them.  In  respect  to  the  more  important  ones, 
Willis,  Halleck,  and  Margaret  Fuller,  his  decisions 
were  final  and  have  been  sustained.  There  was  a 
good  deal  of  discussion,  however,  among  the  dis 
turbed  mediocrities ;  Godey  was  implored  by  the 
honey  -  tongued  and  brow -beaten  by  the  loud 
mouthed,  but  he  refused  to  be  intimidated  by 
either  method,  as  he  assured  the  public  in  a  card ; 
and,  in  particular,  Thomas  Dunn  English  was 
roused  to  open  combat. 

This  individual,  whom  Poe  facetiously  called 
"  Thomas  Dunn  Brown,"  was  a  doctor,  lawyer, 
novelist,  editor,  and  poet  of  twenty-seven  years  of 
age,  whom  Poe,  despite  his  foolish  disclaimer  of 
personal  acquaintance,  had  met  in  Philadelphia, 
and  had  allowed  to  lounge  about  his  office  and  run 
errands  for  him  when  he  was  editing  the  "  Broad 
way  Journal."  No  mortal  ever  held  a  pen  who 
would  not  resent  such  a  shameless  exposure  of  his 
ears  as  was  Poe's  article  in  this  instance,  —  a  sort 
of  grotesque  in  criticism.  English  secured  forth 
with  the  columns  of  the  "  Mirror "  (which  had 


266  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

changed  hands),  and  poured  out  on  Poe,  June 
23,  a  flood  of  scurrility ;  besides  a  plentiful  use  of 
billingsgate  and  the  easy  charge  of  intoxication, 
there  was  in  particular  a  specific  accusation  of  ob 
taining  money  under  false  pretenses  and  of  down 
right  forgery.  Poe  replied  four  days  later  in  the 
Philadelphia  "  Saturday  Gazette,"  and  exercised 
his  powers  of  recrimination  at  a  length  and  with 
an  effect  that  makes  one  think  of  the  lion  and  the 
jackal.  Of  course  he  confessed  his  poverty  and 
his  excesses,  with  the  pitiful  extenuation  that  the 
latter  were  the  unavoidable  result  rather  than  the 
cause  of  his  misfortune  ;  but  he  exculpated  himself 
from  the  charges  affecting  his  integrity,  and  had  he 
not  in  his  turn  indulged  in  intemperate  personal 
abuse  there  would  have  been  nothing  to  desire  in 
his  rejoinder.  Poe  also  brought  suit  against  the 
"  Mirror,"  and,  no  witnesses  appearing  to  justify 
the  libel,  he  was  adjudged  damages,  February  17, 
1847,  in  the  sum  of  $225,  with  costs  to  the  defen 
dant. 

Notwithstanding  the  wrath  of  a  few  manikins, 
Poe's  "  Literati "  was  not  a  prose  Dunciad ;  and 
the  impression  that  his  criticism  in  general  was  an 
anathema  on  American  mediocrity  is  an  entirely 
false  one.  Not  infrequently,  indeed,  he  exposed 
some  fool's  folly  with  the  raillery  and  zest  of  a 
boy's  untroubled  enjoyment  in  the  low  comedy  of 
the  situation ;  now  and  then,  in  a  more  bitter  mood, 
he  could  with  deliberate  leisure  pull  some  insect 


IN  NEW   YORK.  267 

of  the  hour  to  pieces,  or  impale  a  Bavius  or  two 
upon  the  highway.  He  looked  on  himself  as  a 
public  executioner,  and  was  proud  of  the  office. 
On  the  whole,  however,  his  commendation  equaled, 
if  it  did  not  exceed,  his  condemnation,  and  more 
than  one  of  those  whom  he  extolled  to  the  skies  has 
long  since  sunk  back  to  the  dust.  The  peculiarity 
of  his  position  was,  not  that  he  was  an  unjust  judge, 
but  that  he  was  the  only  one  ;  not  that  his  cen 
sures  were  undeserved,  but  that  he  alone  pronounced 
a  sentence  without  fear  or  favor.  He  thus  drew 
about  himself  a  swarm  of  enemies ;  and  as  his  life 
offered  only  too  fair  an  opportunity  they  used  their 
advantage  to  take  revenge  in  slander,  as  did  Dr. 
English,  but  in  secret.  In  these  critical  decisions 
of  Poe's,  speaking  generally,  he  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  himself  actuated  by  any  unworthy  motive, 
any  personal  consideration  of  friendliness  or  enmity, 
or  any  hope  of  gain  or  fear  of  loss  ;  if  such  matters 
affected  his  judgment,  it  was  ordinarily  either  in 
an  unconscious  or  an  involuntary  way.  Now  and 
then,  as  in  the  case  of  Griswold,  he  was  stung  into 
telling  truth  when  he  might  otherwise  have  held 
his  peace  ;  or  he  apologized,  as  to  Matthews,  for 
the  violence  of  some  earlier  critique,  or  lowered  the 
key  of  his  laudation  when  friendship  ceased,  as 
with  Lowell.  Worldly  motives  swayed  his  mind, 
now  more,  now  less ;  personal  feelings  entered  into 
his  verdicts  ;  but  he  was  not  governed  by  them. 
His  open  claim  to  impartiality,  sincerity,  and  integ- 


268  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

rity  seems  to  be  sustained ;  or,  if  shaken  at  all,  to 
be  invalidated  by  the  praise  he  gave  to  his  femi 
nine  friends  rather  than  by  the  contempt  he  poured 
out  on  his  masculine  foes. 

It  is  thought  in  some  quarters  that  Poe's  crit 
icism,  and  particularly  its  destructive  portions, 
was  very  valuable.  It  is  even  said  that  he  raised 
the  level  of  our  current  literature.  The  race  of 
chameleon  poets,  however,  is  not  yet  extinct,  and 
they  feed  on  the  green  trees  of  Tennyson,  Brown 
ing,  and  Swinburne  as  once  on  those  of  Moore, 
Mrs.  Hemans,  and  Keats.  Reputations  are  still 
made  by  the  coteries  of  a  publisher's  anteroom  and 
sustained  by  judicious  advertising.  The  motives 
that  influence  the  editorial  judgments  of  the  press 
have  changed  but  little  in  a  generation.  If,  as  is 
true,  the  mediocrities  of  our  time  are  more  clever 
in  their  imitation  and  more  painstaking  in  their 
drudgery,  this  is  rather  to  be  ascribed  to  the  gen 
eral  rise  of  the  standard  of  literary  excellence,  due 
to  the  intellectual  movement  of  the  age,  than  to 
the  influence  of  a  single  free  lance  like  Poe.  The 
good  that  criticism  can  do  to  the  producers  of  liter 
ature  is  trifling ;  its  work  is  to  improve  the  popu 
lar  taste,  and  to  make  the  best  that  is  written 
widely  known  and  easily  apprehensible  ;  to  authors 
it  is,  for  many  reasons,  well-nigh  useless.  Destruc 
tive  criticism  of  imaginative  work,  especially,  is  or 
dinarily  futile,  and  in  Poe's  case  no  exception  need 
be  made.  The  good  he  did  was  infinitesimal ;  it 


IN  NEW   YORK.  269 

would  have  been  far  better  to  leave  such  work  to 
the  scythe  of  Time. 

Of  the  excellence  of  Poe's  criticism  in  itself, 
however,  there  can  be  no  question.  He  was  the 
disciple  of  Coleridge ;  and,  being  gifted  with  some 
thing  of  Coleridge's  analytic  powers,  he  applied  the 
principles  he  thus  derived  with  skill  and  effect. 
No  one,  too,  could  subject  himself  to  so  long  a 
self-training,  and  become  so  perfect  in  his  own 
subtle  art,  without  developing  a  refined  taste  of  the 
highest  value  in  criticism.  The  test  of  his  ability 
as  a  critic,  the  severest  test  to  which  a  man  can 
be  put,  is  the  quickness  and  certainty  of  his  rec 
ognition  of  unknown  genius.  In  this  Poe  suc 
ceeded  ;  the  rank  he  gave  to  the  American  poets, 
young  and  old  (and  in  the  case  of  the  best  of  them 
he  had  only  their  earliest  work  to  judge  by),  is  the 
rank  sustained  by  the  issue,  and  his  success  in 
dealing  with  the  English  reputations  of  the  future 
was  not  less  marked.  To  Tennyson,  Dickens, 
and  Longfellow  he  brought  early  applause ;  Mrs. 
Browning,  Lowell,  and  Hawthorne  were  foreknown 
by  him  when  their  names  were  still  in  doubt.  It 
is  no  diminution  of  his  just  praise  that  he  so  far 
shared  in  human  weakness  as  to  obey  an  obscure 
jealousy,  notably  in  Longfellow's  case ;  or  to  be 
misled  by  a  prejudice,  as  with  Emerson  or  any 
other  transcendentalist ;  or  to  hail  many  a  poetaster, 
particularly  in  petticoats,  as  of  Apollo's  band.  He 
was  as  extreme  in  eulogy  as  in  denunciation  ;  and, 


270  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

especially  in  the  case  of  Southern  writers,  he  some 
times  indulged  in  so  laudatory  a  strain  as  to  be 
guilty  of  absurdity.  His  decisions  in  more  than 
one  instance,  like  those  on  Moore,  and  in  a  less  de 
gree  on  Dickens,  were  merely  contemporary ;  and 
in  other  cases,  like  that  of  Home's  "  Orion,"  were 
esoteric  and  whimsical.  His  silence,  too,  regarding 
the  great  men  of  the  past,  such  as  Shakspere, 
and  the  unanimous  report  of  his  violent  deprecia 
tion  of  them  in  conversation,  must  count  in  settling 
his  own  virtues  as  a  critic.  He  was,  it  is  easy  to 
see  now,  prejudiced  here  and  partial  there ;  foolish, 
or  interested,  or  wrong-headed;  carping,  or  flat 
tering,  or  contemptuous.  Yet  he  was  the  first  of 
his  time  to  mark  the  limitations  of  the  pioneer 
writers,  such  as  Irving,  Bryant,  and  Cooper,  and  to 
foresee  the  future  of  the  younger  men  who  have  been 
mentioned ;  he  was,  too,  though  he  originated  no 
criterion,  the  first  to  take  criticism  from  mere 
advertising,  puffery,  and  friendship,  and  submit  it 
to  the  laws  of  literary  art.  This  was  much  to  do, 
and  in  his  lifetime,  whatever  were  his  deficiencies, 
was  regarded  as  his  great  distinction  ;  it  was  the 
more  honorable  because  of  the  offense  that  was  now 
and  then  bound  to  be  given,  even  if  Poe  had  been 
the  wisest  and  kindest  of  men  instead  of  the  reck 
less,  erratic,  and  un scholarly  judge  he  was.  For, 
to  come  to  the  rationale  of  the  matter,  it  was  by  no 
means  learning,  in  which  he  was  a  charlatan,  nor 
inborn  sense,  nor  intellectual  honesty,  nor  moral 


IN  NEW   YORK.  271 

insight,  nor  power  of  imaginative  sympathy,  that 
gave  his  criticism  value,  —  in  all  these  he  was 
deficient  ;  but  it  was  merely  the  knowledge  of 
the  qualities  and  methods  of  artistic  effect,  which 
came  to  him  in  the  development  of  his  own  genius 
under  the  controlling  influence  of  Coleridge's  rea 
son  and  imagination.  His  criticism  is  thus  largely 
a  series  of  illustrations  of  literary  art  as  he  hiinsejf 
it. 


For  weeks  before  English's  libel  Poe  had  been 
ill  at  Fordham,  whither  he  had  lately  removed, 
and  henceforth  his  constitution  may  be  regarded 
as  hopelessly  broken.  This  premature  exhaustion 
may  be  in  part  ascribed  to  continuous  overwork,  re 
peated  disappointments,  and  the  humiliations  of  pov 
erty  ;  but  his  shattered  health  must  also  be  traced 
to  the  use  of  liquor,  his  indulgence  in  which,  since, 
after  his  year  of  abstinence,  he  broke  down  in 
1845,  had  been  extreme.  In  addition  to  this  cause, 
too,  must  be  recorded  the  more  insidious  and  mor 
tal  influence  of  the  use  of  opium,  which,  vampire- 
like,  had  sucked  the  vitality  out  of  the  whole  frame 
of  his  being,  mental,  moral,  and  physical. 

The  cottage  to  which  he  had  retired  in  the  spring 
of  1846,  although  at  the  best  a  mean  dwelling,  was 
the  pleasantest  retreat  he  had  known.  It  was  a 
one  story  and  a  half  house,  still  standing  on  King's 
Bridge  Road,  at  the  top  of  Fordham  Hill.  Within, 
on  the  ground-floor,  were  two  small  apartments,  a 
kitchen  and  sitting-room  ;  and  above,  up  a  narrow 


272  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

stairway,  two  others,  one  —  Poe's  room  —  a  low, 
cramped  chamber,  lighted  by  little  square  windows 
like  port-holes,  the  other  a  diminutive  closet  of  a 
bedroom,  hardly  large  enough  to  lie  down  in.  The 
furniture  was  of  the  simplest :  in  the  clean,  white- 
floored  kitchen,  says  Mrs.  Gove,  who  visited  the 
family  during  this  first  summer,  were  a  table,  a 
chair,  and  a  little  stove;  and  in  the  other  room, 
which  was  laid  with  checked  matting,  were  only 
a  light  stand  with  presentation  volumes  of  the 
Brownings  upon  it,  some  hanging  shelves  with  a 
few  other  books  ranged  on  them,  and  four  chairs. 
Outside,  however,  the  broad  views,  in  contrast  with 
the  dwarfed  interior,  must  have  had,  as  is  now  the 
case,  a  fine  spaciousness.  The  old  cherry-trees 
are  still  rooted  in  the  grassy  turf,  out  of  which 
crops  here  and  there  the  granite  of  the  underlying 
rock;  and  a  stone's  throw  to  the  east  of  the  ve 
randa,  then  as  now  overgrown  with  vines,  rises  the 
ledge  itself,  overhung  by  sighing  pines,  and  looking 
off  far  across  the  meadows,  woods,  and  villages,  to 
the  glimmer  of  ocean  on  the  dim  horizon.  Of  this 
little  home  in  the  pleasant  country  there  are  many 
reminiscences,  curiously  intermingling  the  beauty 
of  nature  with  the  charm  of  the  three  occupants. 
Mrs.  Clemm,  now  over  sixty,  with  her  large,  benev 
olent  features  and  white  hair,  in  a  worn  black  dress, 
made  upon  all  who  saw  her  an  impression  of  dig 
nity,  refinement,  and  especially  of  deep  motherly 
devotion  to  her  children  ;  Virginia,  at  the  age 


IN  NEW   YORK.  273 

of  twenty-five,  retained  her  beauty,  but  the  large 
black  eyes  and  raven  hair  contrasted  sadly  with 
the  white  pallor  of  her  face;  Poe  himself,  poor, 
proud,  and  ill,  anticipating  grief,  and  nursing 
the  bitterness  that  springs  from  helplessness  in 
the  sight  of  suffering  borne  by  those  dear  to  us, 
was  restless  and  variable,  the  creature  of  contra 
dictory  impulses,  alternating  between  the  eager 
ness  of  renewed  hope  and  the  dull  maze  of  the 
ever-recurring  disappointment.  Friends  called  on 
him,  and  found  him  anxious  over  the  one  great 
trouble  of  his  poverty,  or  inspirited  by  the  compli 
ment  of  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Browning,  or  endeavor 
ing  to  distract  his  mind  with  his  pets,  —  a  bobolink 
he  had  caught  and  caged,  or  a  parrot  some  one  had 
given  him,  or  his  favorite  cat.  If  he  went  away  to 
the  city,  he  came  back  at  once  to  his  home  ;  once, 
when  he  was  detained,  he  sent  a  note  to  Virginia, 
which  is  unique  in  his  correspondence :  — 

June  12,  1846. 

MY  DEAR  HEAJJT — My  Dear  Virginia  —  Our  mother 
will  explain  to  you  why  I  stay  away  from  you  this  night. 
I  trust  the  interview  I  am  promised  will  result  in  some 
substantial  good  for  me  —  for  your  dear  sake  and  hers 
—  keep  up  your  heart  in  all  hopefulness,  and  trust  yet  a 
little  longer.  On  my  last  great  disappointment  I  should 
have  lost  my  courage  but  for  you  —  my  little  darling 
wife.  You  are  my  greatest  and  only  stimulus  now,  to 
battle  with  this  uncongenial,  unsatisfactory,  and  ungrate 
ful  life. 

I  shall  be  with  you  to-morrow  [illegible]  p.  M.,  and  be 
18 


274  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

assured  until  I  see  you  I  will  keep  in  loving  remem 
brance  your  last  words,  and  your  fervent  prayer  ! 

Sleep  well  and  may  God  grant  you  a  peaceful  summer 
with  your  devoted 

EDGAR.1 

As  the  summer  went  on  Poe  grew  no  better,  and 
daily  Virginia  failed  and  faded,  and  the  resources 
of  the  household  were  being  slowly  reduced  to 
the  starving  point.  Autumn  came,  the  snow  and 
the  cold  and  the  winter  seclusion,  and  affairs 
grew  desperate ;  the  wolf  was  already  at  the  door 
when  by  happy  chance  this  same  Mrs.  Gove,  whose 
kind  heart  could  prompt  her  to  something  better 
than  her  verses,  called  on  the  Poes,  and  found  the 
dying  wife  in  the  summer  sitting-room,  which  had 
been  taken  for  her  use.  The  scene  requires  her 
own  description :  — 

"  There  was  no  clothing  on  the  bed,  which  was  only 
straw,  but  a  snow-white  counterpane  and  sheets.  The 
weather  was  cold,  and  the  sick  lady  had  the  dreadful 
chills  that  accompany  the  hectic  fever  of  consumption. 
She  lay  on  the  straw  bed,  wrapped  in  her  husband's 
great-coat,  with  a  large  tortoise-shell  cat  in  her  bosom. 
The  wonderful  cat  seemed  conscious  of  her  great  useful 
ness.  The  coat  and  the  cat  were  the  sufferer's  only 
means  of  warmth,  except  as  her  husband  held  her 
hands,  and  her  mother  her  feet.  Mrs.  Clemm  was  pas 
sionately  fond  of  her  daughter,  and  her  distress  on  ac 
count  of  her  illness  and  poverty  and  misery  was  dreadful 
to  see."  a 

1  Ingram,  ii.  88,  89.  2  Ingram,  ii.  97. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  275 

On  her  return  to  New  York,  Mrs.  Gove  applied 
to  Mrs.  Maria  Louise  Shew,  the  daughter  of  a  phy 
sician,  who  had  given  his  child  a  medical  education, 
and  thus  had  helped  to  make  her  the  useful  friend 
of  the  poor  to  whom  she  devoted  her  life.  Relief 
was  immediately  sent,  and  by  Mrs.  Shew's  efforts 
a  subscription  of  sixty  dollars  was  soon  made  up. 
"  From  the  day  this  kind  lady  first  saw  the  suffer 
ing  family  of  the  poet,"  adds  Mrs.  Gove,  whose  nar 
rative  is  here  closely  followed,  "  she  watched  over 
them  as  a  mother  watches  over  her  babe.  She  saw 
them  often,  and  ministered  to  the  comfort  of  the 
dying  and  the  living." 

Under  the  influence  of  this  glimpse  of  kindliness, 
Poe  roused  his  faculties  to  new  work.  The  "  Lit 
erati,"  which  had  come  to  an  end  in  October,  was 
followed  in  the  next  month  in  "  Godey's  "  by  a  tale 
of  Italian  vengeance,  in  the  traditional  style,  "  The 
Cask  of  Amontillado ; "  but  with  this  and  an  install 
ment  of  "  Marginalia "  in  the  December  "  Gra 
ham's  "  his  publications  for  this  year  came  to  an 
end. 

In  December,  much  to  his  mortification,  the  ne 
cessitous  condition  of  his  family  was  made  public 
by  a  paragraph  in  "  The  Express,"  which  appears 
to  have  been  kindly  meant,  since  it  merely  appealed 
to  his  friends  in  his  behalf  :  — 

"  We  regret  to  learn  that  Edgar  A.  Poe  and  his  wife 
are  both  dangerously  ill  with  the  consumption,  and  that 
the  hand  of  misfortune  lies  heavy  upon  their  temporal 


276  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

affairs.  We  are  sorry  to  mention  the  fact  that  they  are 
so  far  reduced  as  to  be  barely  able  to  obtain  the  necessa 
ries  of  life.  This  is  indeed  a  hard  lot,  and  we  hope  that 
the  friends  and  admirers  of  Mr.  Poe  will  come  promptly 
to  his  assistance  in  his  bitterest  hour  of  need."  l 

Willis,  who  saw  this  notice,  gave  greater  cur 
rency  to  the  facts  by  an  article  in  his  own  paper, 
"  The  Home  Journal,"  in  which  he  made  his 
friend's  destitution  the  text  of  a  plea  for  an  au 
thors'  house  of  refuge.  Poe,  who  felt  humiliated  by 
these  disclosures,  wrote  an  open  letter  to  Willis, 
December  30,  1846,  in  which  he  tried  hard  to  deny 
the  actual  misery  of  his  condition,  but  only  suc 
ceeded  in  forcing  his  pen  to  the  guarded  assertion 
that  he  had  indeed  been  in  want  of  money  in  con 
sequence  of  his  long  illness,  but  that  it  was  not  al 
together  true  that  he  had  materially  suffered  from 
privation  beyond  the  extent  of  his  capacity  for  suf 
fering.  This  labored  statement,  however,  which  is 
given  in  nearly  his  exact  words,  was  soon  after 
wards  privately  acknowledged,  in  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Locke,  of  Lowell,  who  sent  him  some  verses,  and 
apparently  followed  them  with  more  solid  expres 
sions  of  her  interest,  to  be  only  an  indulgence  of 
his  natural  pride,  which  impelled  him,  he  wrote, 
"  to  shrink  from  public  charity,  even  at  the  cost  of 
truth  in  denying  those  necessities  which  were  but 
too  real."  2  m 

Within  a  month,  however,  all  his  new  hopes  and 
1  Griswold,  xl.  2  Griswold,  xli. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  277 

old  troubles  were  lost  sight  of  in  view  of  the  rap 
idly  approaching  death  of  his  wife.  On  January 
29,  1847,  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Shew,  whose  attention 
had  been  unremitting  during  all  these  winter  weeks, 
the  following  note  :  — 

KINDEST  —  DEAREST  FRIEND,  —  My  poor  Virginia 
still  lives,  although  failing  fast  and  now  suffering  much 
pain.  May  God  grant  her  life  until  she  sees  you  and 
thanks  you  once  again  !  Her  bosom  is  full  to  overflowing 
—  like  my  own  —  with  a  boundless  —  inexpressible  grati 
tude  to  you.  Lest  she  may  never  see  you  more  —  she 
bids  me  say  that  she  sends  you  her  sweetest  kiss  of  love 
and  will  die  blessing  you.  But  come  —  oh  come  to 
morrow  !  Yes,  I  will  be  calm  —  everything  you  so 
nobly  wish  to  see  me.  My  mother  sends  you,  also,  her 
"  warmest  love  and  thanks."  She  begs  me  to  ask  you, 
if  possible,  to  make  arrangements  at  home  so  that  you 
may  stay  with  us  To-morrow  night.  I  enclose  the  order 
to  the  Postmaster.  Heaven  bless  you  and  farewell ! 

EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

FORDHAM,  Jan.  29,  '47. 

In  response,  Mrs.  Shew  called  to  take  a  last 
leave  of  the  invalid,  who  asked  her  to  read  some 
letters  from  the  second  Mrs.  Allan,  exculpating 
Poe  from  causing  any  difficulty  at  his  old  home, 
and  gave  her  Poe's  picture  and  his  mother's  jewel- 
case  as  keepsakes.  On  the  next  day,  Saturday, 
January  30,  Virginia  died.  Her  husband,  wrapped 
in  the  military  cloak  that  had  once  served  to  cover 
her,  followed  the  body  to  the  tomb,  to  which  it  was 
consigned  in  the  presence  of  a  few  friends. 
1  Ingram,  ii.  107. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   END   OF  THE    PLAY. 

POE  became  very  ill  after  this  event;  and  al 
though  in  the  middle  of  March  he  seems  to  have 
partially  recovered  under  the  nursing  of  Mrs. 
Shew  and  his  mother-in-law,  he  again  sank,  and  his 
life  was  believed  to  be  endangered.  It  was  neces 
sary  to  raise  fresh  funds  for  his  relief,  and  by  the 
interest  of  various  friends  one  hundred  dollars  were 
collected  at  once,  and  afterwards  other  sums  were 
contributed.  Mrs.  Shew,  who,  as  has  been  said, 
had  received  a  medical  education,  decided  that  Poe 
"  in  his  best  health  had  lesion  of  one  side  of  the 
brain;"  and  she  adds  in  her  diary,  "As  he  could 
not  bear  stimulants  or  tonics,  without  producing 
insanity,  I  did  not  feel  much  hope  that  he  could  be 
raised  up  from  brain  fever,  brought  on  by  extreme 
suffering  of  mind  and  body,  —  actual  want  and  hun 
ger  and  cold  having  been  borne  by  this  heroic 
husband  in  order  to  supply  food,  medicine,  and 
comforts  to  his  dying  wife,  until  exhaustion  and 
lifelessness  were  so  near  at  every  reaction  of  the 
fever  that  even  sedatives  had  to  be  administered 
with  extreme  caution."  1  It  was  at  this  time  that 

1  Ingram,  ii.  115. 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  279 

he  dictated,  in  half -delirious  states  of  mind,  the  ro 
mantic  and  unfounded  story,  which  he  obliged  Mrs. 
Shew  to  write  down,  of  his  voyage  to  France,  his 
duel,  and  his  French  novel,  which  has  been  ac 
cepted  as  sober  truth. 

On  recovering  from  this  prolonged  illness  suffi 
ciently  to  resume  work  in  some  degree,  he  confined 
himself  to  his  home.  He  rose  early,  ate  moderately, 
drank  only  water,  and  took  abundance  of  exercise 
in  the  open  air.  From  time  to  time  he  visited  Mrs. 
Shew  in  the  city,  and  she  in  turn  called  upon  him, 
and  would  frequently  advise  him  to  contract  mar 
riage,  with  the  warning  that  he  could  be  saved  from 
sudden  death  only  by  a  prudent,  calm  life  with  a 
woman  who  had  sufficient  strength  and  affection  to 
manage  his  affairs  for  him.  On  his  part,  he  re 
strained  his  reply  to  remarks,  which  she  termed 
ironical,  regarding  her  ignorance  of  the  world's  evil. 
In  this  summer  and  autumn  he  entertained  more 
than  one  acquaintance  who  carried  away  bright 
recollections  of  his  home.  He  had  still  the  caged 
birds  to  pet,  and  now  in  additionTTe  amused  his  lei 
sure  with  cultivating  a  flower  garden,  in  which  were 
beds  of  mignonnette,  heliotrope,  and  dahlias.  Fre 
quently  he  would  walk  some  miles  to  the  westward, 
along  uneven  country  roads  lined  with  orchards,  to 
the  High  Bridge,  on  whose  lofty  granite  arches,  a 
hundred  and  forty-five  feet  above  high-water,  the 
great  aqueduct  crosses  Harlem  Kiver ;  and  there  on 
the  elevated  grassy  causeway,  used  only  by  foot-pas- 


280  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

sengers,  he  would  pace  by  day  or  night,  or  would 
lean  on  the  low  parapet,  alone,  musing  on  his  own 
life,  or  speculating  on  the  constitution  of  the  uni 
verse,  or  merely  enjoying  the  beauty  of  the  pictur 
esque  scenes  up  and  down  the  river.  The  ledge, 
too,  back  of  his  house,  with  its  pines  and  the  wide 
prospect,  was  one  of  his  haunts,  and  thither  he 
would  retreat  to  escape  literary  callers,  or  to  dream 
out  the  metaphysical  rhapsody  over  which  he  was 
brooding ;  for  it  was  in  such  solitary  places. ihat  Jig 
planned  "  Euj-eJsaT^ 

jThis  year,  particularly  in  its  earlier  part,  was 
necessarily  one  of  comparative  inactivity,  yet  Poe's 
name  did  not  pass  out  of  the  public  notice. 
Willis,  who  remained  his  faithful  literary  friend, 
took  pains  to  copy  his  poems,  advertise  his  plans, 
and  commend  his  genius  whenever  opportunity  of 
fered  ;  and  Poe  on  his  part  kept  him  informed  in 
regard  to  his  doings.  In  the  "  Home  Journal," 

March  13,  appeared  the  lines  "  To  M.  L.  S ," 

addressed  to  Mrs.  Shew,  of  inferior  poetic  merit, 
and  characterized  by  the  peculiar  and  sometimes  dis 
sonant  cadences  of  the  later  unrhymed  poems.  A 
week  later  the  same  paper  announced  as  soon  to  be 
published  "  The  Authors  of  America,  in  Prose  and 
Verse,  by  Edgar  A.  Poe,"  but  the  work  did  not  ap 
pear,  though  the  review  of  Hawthorne  in  the  No 
vember  "  Godey's,"  in  which  Poe  decides  that  Haw 
thorne  is  not  original,  after  all,  but  only  peculiar, 
may  be  regarded  as  an  extract  from  it.  In  Decem- 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  281 

ber  the  ballad  "  Ulalume,"  having  been  rejected  by 
the  "  Union  Magazine,"  was  published  in  the 
"  Whig,"  and  reprinted  by  Willis  in  accordance 
with  the  following  request  from  Poe,  which  may 
serve  as  an  example  of  several  such  letters :  — 

FORDHAM,  Dec.  8. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  WILLIS,  —  Many  thanks  for  the  kind 
expressions  in  your  note  of  three  or  four  weeks  ago. 

I  send  you  an  "American  Review" — the  number 
just  issued  —  in  which  is  a  ballad  by  myself,  but  pub 
lished  anonymously.  It  is  called  "  Ulalume  "  —  the 
page  is  turned  down.  I  do  not  care  to  be  known  as  its 
author  just  now ;  but  I  would  take  it  as  a  great  favor  if 
you  would  copy  it  in  the  H.  J.,  with  a  word  of  inquiry 
as  to  who  wrote  it :  —  provided  always  that  you  think 
the  poem  worth  the  room  it  would  occupy  in  your  paper 
—  a  matter  about  which  I  am  by  no  means  sure. 

Always  yours  gratefully,  EDGAR  A.  PoE.1 

Willis  prefaced  his  reprint  with  the  desired  in 
quiry  as  to  the  authorship  of  "  Ulalume,"  and  de 
scribed  it,  in  words  that  may  not  have  seemed  to 
Poe  indicative  of  sympathetic  insight,  as  an  "  ex 
quisitely  piquant  and  skillful  exercise  of  rarity  and 
niceness  of  language,"  and  "a  curiosity  in  phil- 
ologic  flavor."  Since  this  extraordinarily  inane 
characterization,  the  best  opinion  has  differed 
widely  in  regard  to  this  ballad,  and  still  most  men 
of  poetic  sensibility  would  say  no  more  in  its  favor 
than  did  Willis.  It  is  built  out  of  the  refrain,  the 
1  Poe  to  Willis.  MS. 


282  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

most  difficult  mode  of  construction,  and  conse 
quently  it  requires  in  the  reader  not  only  a  willing 
ness  to  accept  monotony  as  a  means  of  expression, 
but  a  content  with  it ;  the  thought  moves  so  slowly, 
with  such  slight  advances  from  its  initial  stage, 
with  such  difficult  increments  of  meaning  and  in 
distinguishable  deepening  of  tone,  that,  like  the 
workings  of  an  expiring  mind,  it  only  just  keeps 
wearily  in  action ;  its  allegorizing,  moreover,  is 
further  from  nature  than  is  usual  even  with  Poe, 
and  implies  by  its  very  simplicity  that  long  familiar 
ity  with  its  imagery  that  Poe  possessed.  For  these 
and  other  reasons,  the  sympathetic  mood,  without 
which  no  such  poem  is  comprehended,  must  be  of 
rare  occurrence  in  this  case  ;  but  if  ever  that  mood 
comes, — that  physical  exhaustion  and  mental  gloom 
and  dreaming  upon  the  dark,  in  which  the  modes 
of  expression  in  this  poem  are  identical  with  those 
of  nature,  —  then,  in  spite  of  jarring  discords,  cock 
ney  rhymes,  and  coarse  types  of  mystery  and  horror, 
this  poem  may  well  seem  the  language  of  a  spirit 
sunk  in  blank  and  moaning  despair,  and  at  every 
move  beaten  back  helplessly  upon  itself.  It  was 
written  at  the  period  of  Poe's  lowest  physical  ex 
haustion  and  probably  of  most  poignant  self-re 
proach.  During  these  months  he  was  not  far  from 
insajijty.  The  criticism  that  finds  in  the  ballad  he 
thus  wrote  merely  a  whimsical  experiment  in  words 
has  little  to  go  on ;  it  is  more  likely  that,  taking 
into  consideration,  too,  the  lack  of  finish  in  conjunc- 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  283 

tion  with  the  justness  of  touch  in  its  essential  struc 
ture,  we  have,  in  this  poem,  the  most  spontaneous, 
the  most  unmistakably  genuine  utterance  of  Poe, 
the  most  clearly  self -portray  ing  work  of  his  hand. 
That,  to  most  readers,  it  is  unintelligible,  and  is 
suggestive  of  humor  rather  than  of  pathos,  only 
marks  how  far  Poe  was  now  removed,  through  one 
and  another  influence,  from  normal  humanity. 

Before  the  publication  of  "Ulalume,"  which  thus 
marks  the  extreme  development  of  Poe's  original 
genius,  occurred  the  first  sign  that  he  was  to  be 
widely  recognized  in  foreign  lands,  unless  the  theft 
of  some  of  his  writings  by  English  magazines  may 
be  regarded  as  an  indication  of  fame.  In  the 
"Revue  des  DeuxMondes,"  October  15, 1846,  was  a 
lengthy  and  appreciative  review  of  the  last  edition 
of  his  tales,  and  attention  having  been  already  called 
to  him  in  Paris  by  the  legal  proceedings  between 
some  of  the  city  journals  that  had  stolen,  either 
from  the  original  or  from  each  other,  "  The  Murders 
of  the  Rue  Morgue,"  Madame  Isabelle  Meunier 
translated  his  best  stories. 

But  while,  unknown  to  himself,  his  reputation 
was  thus  growing  in  France,  where  it  was  destined 
to  be  wide-spread  and  enduring,  he  was  engaged  in 
thinking  out  what  he  thought  would  prove  his  best 
title  to  the  remembrance  of  posterity,  "  Eureka." 
As  the  winter  advanced  he  applied  himself  wholly 
to  this  speculation  ;  night  after  night  in  the  coldest  j 
weather  he  would  wrap  himself  in  his  great  military ; 


284  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

cloak,  and  pace  the  little  veranda  of  the  cottage 
(through  long  hours  of  solitary  meditation,  elabo- 
jrating  thought  by  thought  his  theory  of  the  eternal 
secret.  At  the  opening  of  the  new  year,  1848,  he 
Jiad  practically  completed  the  work,  and  he  now  set 
himself  with  new  vigor  to  the  old  task  of  establish 
ing  the  "  Stylus,"  with  the  hope  that  "  Eureka  " 
would  furnish  him  with  the  necessary  funds.  He 
sent  out  the  old  prospectus,  with  its  well-worn  an 
nouncements  that  the  management  was  to  bear  the 
mark  of  individuality,  the  contributions  to  be  se 
lected  solely  on  the  ground  of  merit,  the  criticism  to 
be  independent,  sincere,  and  fearless  ;  all  that  five 
years  had  added  to  the  advertisement  was  the 
promise  of  "Literary  America,"  by  the  editor, 
being  "  a  faithful  account  of  the  literary  produc 
tions,  literary  people,  and  literary  affairs  of  the 
United  States,"  to  be  begun  in  the  first  number. 
Poe's  plan  was  to  make  a  personal  canvass  through 
the  country,  as  had  been  so  successfully  done  by 
his  friend  Mr.  Freeman  Hunt  in  launching  his 
"  Merchants'  Magazine "  a  few  years  previous. 
With  the  view  of  raising  the  money  for  this  jour 
ney  he  advertised  a  lecture  in  the  Society  Library, 
on  the  "  Cosmogony  of  the  Universe,"  and  at  his 
request  Willis  besought  public  favor  for  it  in  his 
paper,  the  "  Home  Journal,"  and  added  a  good 
word  for  the  projected  "  Stylus,"  the  founding  of 
which  was  said  to  be  the  ultimate  object  of  the 
lecture.  On  February  3,  in  response  to  these 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  285 

notices,  about  sixty  persons  assembled,  the  night 
unfortunately  being  stormy,  and,  it  is  said,  were 
held  entranced  for  two  hours  and  a  half  by  an  ab 
stract  of  "  Eureka,"  although  the  charm  must  have 
been  exercised  by  the  personality  of  the  poet  rather 
than  the  substance  of  what  he  uttered ;  and  indeed 
Poe  seems  to  have  been  an  eloquent  and  impressive 
speaker,  as  he  had  good  right  to  be  both  by  inher 
itance  and  by  the  natural  endowments  of  his  voice 
and  person. 

The  lecture  was  imperfectly  reported  by  a  few 
of  the  city  papers,  but  made  no  impression.  Finan 
cially  it  had  failed  of  its  purpose,  and  therefore  Poe, 
seeing  no  better  means  of  obtaining  funds,  deter 
mined  to  publish  the  entire  work,  and  at  once  of 
fered  it  to  Mr.  Putnam,  who  many  years  afterward 
wrote  an  account 1  of  the  interview  which,  though 
doubtless  essentially  true,  seems  to  be  colored.  He 
says  that  Poe  was  in  a  tremor  of  excitement  and 
declared  with  intense  earnestness  and  solemnity 
that  the  issue  of  the  book  was  of  momentous 
interest,  that  the  truths  disclosed  in  it  were  of  more 
consequence  than  the  discovery  of  gravitation,  and 
that  an  edition  of  50,000  copies  would  be  but  a 
beginning.  Mr.  Putnam  confesses  that  he  was  im 
pressed,  and  two  days  later  accepted  the  manu 
script.  An  edition  of  500  copies  was  printed  with 
out  delay  and  published  early  in  the  summer,  in 
good  form,  under  the  title  "Eureka;  A  Prose 
1  Putnam's  Magazine,  iv.  471.  N.  S.  (October,  1869.) 


286  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Poem,"1  and  introduced  by  the  well-known  pref 
ace  :  — 

"  To  the  few  who  love  me  and  whom  I  love  —  to 
those  who  feel  rather  than  to  those  who  think  —  to  the 
dreamers  and  those  who  put  faith  in  dreams  as  in  the 
only  realities  —  I  offer  this  Book  of  Truths,  not  in  its 
character  of  Truth-Teller,  but  for  the  Beauty  that  abounds 
in  its  Truth;  constituting  it  true.  To  them  I  present 
the  composition  as  an  Art-Product  alone  :  —  let  us  say  as 
a  Romance ;  or,  if  I  be  not  urging  too  lofty  a  claim,  as  a 
Poem. 

"  What  I  here  propound  is  true :  —  therefore  it  can 
not  die  :  —  or  if  by  any  means  it  be  now  trodden  down 
so  that  it  die,  it  will  '  rise  again  to  the  Life  Everlasting/ 
Nevertheless  it  is  as  a  Poem  only  that  I  wish  this  work 
to  be  judged  after  I  am  dead." 

It  is  obviously  impossible  to  grant  Poe's  request. 
He  has  written  a  physical  explanation  of  the  uni 
verse  and  based  it  on  metaphysical  principles ;  he 
has  declared  it  a  true  account,  and  he  must  stand 
by  his  words.  Moreover,  the  speculative  activity 
of  Poe's  mind  grew  out  of  its  analytical  activity ; 
the  metaphysical  essays  virtually  begin  when  the 
ratiocinative  tales  end,  in  1845,  and  thus  in  the  his 
tory  of  Poe's  mental  development,  "  Eureka,"  the 
principal  work  of  his  last  years,  necessarily  occupies 
an  important  place.  The  earliest  indication  that 
such  topics  occupied  his  mind  occurs  in  the  review 

3  Eureka :  A  Prose  Poem.  By  Edgar  A.  Foe.  New  York  : 
Geo.  P.  Putnam.  1884:  pp.  143. 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  287 

of  Macaulay's  Essays :  "  That  we  know  no  more  to- 
day  of  the  nature  of  Deity — of  its  purposes —  and 
thus  of  man  himself  —  than  we  did  even  a  dozen 
years  ago  —  is  a  proposition  disgracefully  absurd ; 
and  of  this  any  astronomer  could  assure  Mr.  Macau- 
lay.  Indeed,  to  our  own  mind,  the  only  irrefutable 
argument  in  support  of  the  soul's  immortality — or, 
rather,  the  only  conclusive  proof  of  man's  alternate 
dissolution  and  rejuvenescence  ad  infinitum  —  is 
to  be  found  in  analogies  deduced  from  the  modern 
established  theory  of  the  nebular  cosmogony."1 
Shortly  after  this  utterance  the  metaphysical  tales 
begin,  but  the  speculations  of  Poe  were  not  fully 
developed  until  the  publication  of  "  Eureka."  In 
the  following  criticism,  which  necessarily  partakes 
somewhat  of  the  abstract  nature  of  its  subject,  only 
what  is  peculiar  to  Poe  will  be  dwelt  on  ;  and  it 
may  as  well  be  premised  that  the  end  in  view  is  not 
the  determination  of  abstract  truth,  but  simply  the 
illustration  alike  of  Poe's  genius  and  character  by 
the  light  of  his  speculations. 

Poe's  hypothesis  is  as  follows  :  The  mind  knows 
intuitively  —  by  inductive  or  deductive  processes 
which  escape  consciousness,  elude  reason,  or  defy 
expression  —  that  the  creative  act  of  Deity  must 
have  been  the  simplest  possible ;  or,  to  expand  and 
define  this  statement,  it  must  have  consisted  in 
willing  into  being  a  primordial  particle,  the  germ 
of  all  things,  existing  without  relations  to  aught,  or, 

1  Works,  ii.  447. 


288  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

in  the  technical  phrase,  unconditioned.  This  par 
ticle,  by  virtue  of  the  divine  volition,  radiated 
into  space  uniformly  in  all  directions  a  shower  of 
atoms  of  diverse  form,  irregularly  arranged  among 
themselves,  but  all,  generally  speaking,  equally  dis 
tant  from  their  source;  this  operation  was  repeated 
at  intervals,  but  with  decreased  energy  in  each 
new  instance,  so  that  the  atoms  were  impelled  less 
far.  On  the  exhaustion  of  the  radiating  force,  the 
universe  was  thus  made  up  of  a  series  of  concentric 
hollow  spheres,  like  a  nest  of  boxes,  the  crusts  of 
the  several  spheres  being  constituted  of  the  atoms 
of  the  several  discharges.  The  radiating  force  at 
each  of  its  manifestations  is  measured  by  the  num 
ber  of  atoms  then  thrown  off ;  or,  since  the  number 
of  atoms  in  any  particular  case  must  have  been 
directly  proportional  with  the  surface  of  the  partic 
ular  sphere  they  occupied,  and  since  the  surfaces 
of  a  series  of  concentric  spheres  are  directly  pro 
portional  with  the  squares  of  their  distances  from 
the  centre,  the  radiating  force  in  the  several  dis 
charges  was  directly  proportional  with  the  squares 
of  the  distances  to  which  the  several  atomic  showers 
were  driven. 

On  the  consummation  of  this  secondary  crea 
tive  act,  as  the  diffusion  may  be  called,  there  oc 
curred,  says  Poe,  a  recoil,  a  striving  of  the  atoms 
each  to  each  in  order  to  regain  their  primitive 
condition ;  and  this  tendency,  which  is  now  being 
satisfied,  is  expressed  in  gravitation,  the  mutual 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  289 

attraction  of  atoms  with  a  force  inversely  propor 
tional  with  the  squares  of  the  distances.  In  other 
words,  the  law  of  gravitation  is  found  to  be  the 
converse  of  the  law  of  radiation,  as  would  be  the 
case  if  the  former  energy  were  the  reaction  of  the 
latter  as  is  claimed ;  furthermore,  the  distribution 
of  the  atoms  in  space  is  seen  to  be  such  as  would 
result  from  the  mode  of  diffusion  described.  The 
return  of  the  atoms  into  their  source,  however, 
would  take  place  too  rapidly,  adds  Poe,  and  with 
out  accomplishing  the  Deity's  design  of  developing 
out  of  the  original  homogeneous  particle  the  utmost 
heterogeneity,  were  it  not  that  God,  in  this  case  a 
true  Deus  ex  machine^  has  interposed  by  intro 
ducing  a  repelling  force  which  began  to  be  gener 
ated  at  the  very  inception  of  the  universal  reaction, 
and  ever  becomes  greater  as  the  latter  proceeds. 
Poe  names  this  force  electricity,  while  at  the  same 
time  he  suggests  that  light,  heat,  and  magnetism 
are  among  its  phases,  and  ascribes  to  it  all  vital 
and  mental  phenomena ;  but  of  the  principle  itself 
he  makes  a  mystery,  since  he  is  intuitively  convinced 
that  it  belongs  to  that  spiritual  essence  which  lies 
beyond  the  limits  of  human  inquiry.  In  the  grand 
reaction,  then,  the  universe  is  through  attraction  be 
coming  more  condensed,  and  through  repulsion  more 
heterogeneous.  Attraction  and  repulsion  taken  to 
gether  constitute  our  notion  of  matter ;  the  former 
is  the  physical  element,  the  Body,  the  latter  is  the 
spiritual  element,  the  Soul.  Incidentally  it  should 

19 


290  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

be  remarked  that  since  in  a  divine  design,  being 
perfect,  no  one  part  exists  for  the  sake  of  others 
more  than  the  others  for  its  sake,  it  is  indifferent 
whether  repulsion  be  considered,  as  hitherto,  an 
expedient  to  retard  the  attractive  force,  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  attractive  force  as  an  expedient  to 
develop  repulsion ;  in  other  words,  it  is  indifferent 
whether  the  physical  be  regarded  as  subordinate  to 
the  spiritual  element,  or  vice  versa.  To  return  to 
the  main  thread,  Poe  affirms  that  repulsion  will  not 
increase  indefinitely  as  the  condensation  of  the 
mass  proceeds,  but  when  in  the  process  of  time  it 
has  fulfilled  its  purpose  —  the  evolution  of  hetero 
geneity  —  it  will  cease,  and  the  attractive  force, 
being  un resisted,  will  draw  the  atoms  back  into  the 
primordial  particle  in  which,  as  it  has  no  parts,  at 
traction  will  also  cease ;  now,  attraction  and  repul 
sion  constituting  our  notion  of  matter,  the  cessation 
of  these  two  forces  is  the  same  thing  with  the  anni 
hilation  of  matter,  or  in  other  words,  the  universe, 
at  the  end  of  the  reaction  which  has  been  mentally 
followed  out,  will  sink  into  the  nihility  out  of  which 
it  arose.  In  conclusion  Poe  makes  one  last  affir 
mation,  to  wit,  that  the  diffusion  and  ingathering 
of  the  universe  is  the  diffusion  and  ingathering  of 
Deity  itself,  which  has  no  existence  apart  from  the 
constitution  of  things. 

It  is  difficult  to  treat  this  hypothesis,  taken  as  a 
metaphysical  speculation,  with  respect.  To  examine 
it  for  the  purpose  of  demolition  would  be  a  tedious, 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  291 

though  an  easy  task ;  but  fortunately  there  is  no  need 
to  do  more  than  point  out  a  few  of  its  confusions  in 
order  to  illustrate  the  worthlessness  of  Poe's  thought 
in  this  field,  and  to  indicate  the  depth  of  the  delu 
sion  under  which  he  labored  in  believing  himself  a 
discoverer  of  new  truth.  For  this  purpose  it  will 
be  best  to  take  the  most  rudimentary  metaphysical 
ideas  involved.  The  primordial  particle  is  declared 
to  be  unconditioned  —  "  my  particle  proper  is  abso 
lute  Irrelation,"  —  or  in  other  words  it  is  the  Abso 
lute  ;  but  this  is  incompatible  with  its  being  willed 
into  being  by  Deity,  to  which  it  would  then  necessa 
rily  stand  related  as  an  effect  to  its  cause ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  must  itself,  being  the  Absolute,  be  Deity 
with  which  Poe  at  last  identifies  it.  In  other  words, 
when  Poe  has  reached  the  conception  of  the  pri 
mordial  particle  as  first  defined  by  him,  he  is  just 
where  he  started,  that  is,  at  the  conception  of  De 
ity,  and  at  that  point,  as  has  been  seen,  he  had 
to  end.  The  difficulty  which  bars  inquiry  —  the 
inconceivability  of  creation  —  remains  as  insuper 
able  as  ever,  although  Poe  may  have  cheated  him 
self  into  believing  it  overcome  by  the  legerdemain 
of  a  phrase  from  physics ;  in  the  attempt  to  de 
scribe  the  generation  of  the  phenomenal  universe 
out  of  the  unknowable,  he  has  been  foiled  by  the  old 
obstacles  — •  the  impossibility  of  making  an  equation 
between  nothing  and  something,  of  effecting  a 
transformation  of  the  absolute  into  the  conditioned. 
If  the  primordial  particle  be  material,  it  is  only 


292  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

the  scientific  equivalent  of  the  old  turtle  of  the  Hin 
doos,  on  which  the  elephant  stands  to  support  the 
globe ;  if  it  be  immaterial,  it  is  the  void  beneath. 

Such  a  criticism  as  the  above  belongs  to  the 
primer  of  thought  in  this  science  ;  but  objections 
as  obvious,  brief,  and  fatal  may  be  urged  against 
every  main  point  of  the  argument.  Without  enter 
ing  on  such  a  discussion  it  is  sufficient  to  observe, 
as  characteristic  illustrations  of  the  density  of  Poe's 
ignorance  in  this  department  of  knowledge,  that  he 
regards  space  not  as  created  but  as  given,  explains 
the  condensation  of  the  universe  as  being  a  physi 
cal  reaction  upon  the  immaterial  will  of  God  (for 
the  original  radiating  force  cannot  be  discriminated 
from  and  is  expressly  identified  with  the  divine  vo 
lition,  just  as  the  primordial  particle  cannot  be  dis 
criminated  from  and  is  expressly  identified  with  the 
divine  essence),  and  lastly  so  confuses  such  simple 
notions  as  final  and  efficient  causes  that  he  contra 
distinguishes  the  force  of  repulsion  from  that  of  at 
traction  as  arising  and  disappearing  in  obedience  to 
the  former  instead  of  the  later  sort.  In  a  word, 
Poe's  theory  belongs  to  the  infancy  of  speculation, 
to  the  period  before  physics  was  separated  from 
ontology ;  in  this  sense,  and  in  no  other,  Kennedy's 
remark  that  Poe  wrote  like  "  an  old  Greek  philos 
opher,"  was  just. 

What  Poe  himself  most  prized  in  this  hypothe 
sis  was  its  pantheistic  portion.  The  sentence  of 
Baron  Bielfeld,  — "  nous  ne  connaissons  rien  de 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  293 

la  nature  ou  de  1'essence  de  Dieu ;  —  pour  sa- 
voir  ce  qu'il  est,  il  faut  etre  Dieu  meme," — had 
made  a  deep  impression  on  his  mind  early  in  life ; 
it  is  one  of  the  half-dozen  French  quotations  that 
he  introduces  at  every  opportunity  into  his  compo 
sitions  ;  in  "  Eureka"  he  translates  it,  "  We  know 
absolutely  nothing  of  the  nature  or  essence  of  God ; 
in  order  to  comprehend  what  he  is,  we  should  have 
to  be  God  ourselves,"  — and  he  immediately  adds, 
"  I  nevertheless  venture  to  demand  if  this  our  pres 
ent  ignorance  of  the  Deity  is  an  ignorance  to  which 
the  soul  is  everlastingly  condemned."  Now  after 
reflection  he  boldly  took  the  only  road  to  such 
knowledge  that  was  left  open  by  the  apothegm,  and 
affirmed  that  he  was  God,  being  persuaded  thereto 
by  his  memories  of  an  ante-natal  and  his  aspiration 
for  an  immortal  existence,  and  in  particular  by  his 
pride.  " My  whole  nature  utterly  revolts"  he 
exclaimed,  "  at  the  idea  that  there  is  any  Being  in 
the  Universe  superior  to  myself!  "  2  On  reading  so 
violent  an  expression  of  belief  one  involuntarily 
examines  the  matter  more  closely  and  pushes  home 
the  question  whether  Poe  did  actually  so  fool  him 
self  to  the  top  of  his  bent ;  and  after  some  little 
investigation  one  finds  that,  if  he  was  his  own 
dupe,  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  It  is  necessary 
here  to  summarize  the  speculations  which  were  put 
forth  elsewhere  by  Poe,  especially  in  the  metaphys 
ical  tales,  and  either  led  up  to  or  supplemented 
the  views  of  "  Eureka." 

1    Works,  i.  132.  2  Ingram,  ii.  144. 


294  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

According  to  these  other  statements,  the  Uni 
verse  is  made  up  of  gross  matter  sensibly  perceived 
and  of  fine  matter  so  minutely  divided  that  the 
atoms  coalesce  (this  is,  of  course,  a  contradiction  in 
terms)  and  form  an  unparticled  substance  which 
permeates  and  impels  all  things.  This  unparticled 
substance  or  imperceptible  coalescent  matter  is  the 
universal  mind  (into  such  unintelligible  phraseol 
ogy  is  the  keen  analyst  forced)  ;  its  being  is  Deity  ; 
its  motion,  regarded  on  the  material  or  energetic 
side,  is  the  divine  volition,  or,  regarded  on  the 
mental  or  conscious  side,  is  the  creative  thought. 
Deity  and  its  activity,  being  such  in  its  universal 
existence,  is  individualized,  by  means  of  gross  mat 
ter  made  for  that  end,  into  particular  creatures, 
among  which  are  men ;  the  human  being,  in  other 
words,  is  a  specialization  of  the  universal,  or  is  God 
incarnate,  as  is  every  other  creature  whatsoever. 
It  is  superfluous  to  follow  Poe  in  his  fantastic  con 
ception  of  the  universe  as  the  abode  of  countless 
rudimentary  incarnations  of  the  Deity,  each  a  di 
vine  thought  and  therefore  irrevocable  ;  the  pecul 
iar  form  of  his  pantheism  would  not  be  more  de 
fined  thereby.  At  the  first  glance  one  sees  that 
his  theory  is  built  out  of  Cartesian  notions,  crudely 
apprehended,  and  rendered  ridiculous  by  the  effort 
to  yoke  them  with  thoroughly  materialistic  ideas. 
In  fact,  Poe's  scraps  of  speculative  philosophy  came 
from  such  opposite  quarters  that  when  his  mind 
began  to  work  on  such  contradictory  information 


THE  END   OF  TEE  PLAY.  295 

he  could  not  well  help  falling  into  inextricable 
confusion.  On  the  one  hand  he  had  derived,  early 
in  life,  from  obscure  disciples  of  the  French  pliilo- 
sophes,  the  first  truth  that  a  materialist  ever  learns, 
—  the  origin  of  all  knowledge  in  experience,  and 
the  consequent  limitation  of  the  mind  to  phenom 
ena  ;  on  the  other  hand  he  had  at  a  later  period 
gleaned  some  of  the  conceptions  of  transcendental 
ism  from  Coleridge,  Schlegel,  and  other  secondary 
sources  ;  from  the  union  of  such  principles  the  issue 
was  naturally  monstrous,  two-natured,  like  the  Cen 
taur.  Essentially  Poo  was  a  materialist.;  whether, 
by  gradually  refining  and  subdividing  matter,  he 
reaches  the  unparticled  substance,  or  by  reversing 
the  evolution  of  nature  he  arrives  at  the  fiery  mist 
and  the  primordial  particle,  he  seeks  to  find  out  God 
by  searching  matter ;  and  even  in  adopting  the  rad 
ically  spiritual  idea  of  pantheism,  he  is  continually 
endeavoring  to  give  it  a  materialistic  form.  Hs 
persuaded  him  self  T  as  it  is  easy  for  ignorance  _tg 
do  ;  subtle  as  his  mind  was,  well  furnished  for 
metaphysical  thought  both  by  his  powers  of  ab 
straction  and  of  reasoning,  he  wrote  the  jargon 
that  belongs  to  the  babbling  days  of  philosophy 
because  he  did  not  take  the  pains  to  know  the  re 
sults  of  past  inquiry  and  to  train  himself  in  modern 
methods.  By  his  quick  perception  and  adroit  use 
of  analogies,  and  especially  by  his  tireless  imagina 
tion,  he  gave  his  confused  dogmatism  the  semblance 
of  a  reasoned  system  ;  but  in  fact  his  metaphysics 


296  EDGAR  ALLAN  FOE. 

exhibit  only  the  shallowness  of  his  scholarship 
and  the  degrading  self-delusion  of  an  arrogant 
and  fatuous  mind. 

It  is  probable  that  few  readers  of  "  Eureka " 
ever  seriously  tried  to  understand  its  metaphysics. 
Its  power  —  other  than  the  fascination  which  some 
readers  feel  in  whatever  makes  of  their  counte 
nances  "  a  foolish  face  of  wonder  "  —  lies  in  its  ex 
position  of  Laplace's  nebular  theory  and  its  vivid 
and  popular  presentation  of  astronomical  phe 
nomena.  In  this  physical  portion  of  the  essay  it 
has  been  fancied  that  Poe  anticipated  some  of  the 
results  of  later  science  ;  but  this  view  cannot  be 
sustained  with  candor.  His  own  position  that  mat 
ter  came  from  nihility  and  consisted  of  centres  of 
force  had  been  put  forth  as  a  scientific  theory  by 
Boscovich  in  1758-59,  had  been  widely  discussed, 
and  had  found  its  way  into  American  text-books. 
The  same  theory  in  a  modified  form  had  just  been 
revived  and  brought  to  the  notice  of  scientists  by 
Faraday  in  his  lecture  in  1844.  It  has  not,  how 
ever,  occupied  the  attention  of  first-class  scientific 
men  since  that  time.  There  may  be,  in  the  claim 
that  "  the  recent  progress  of  scientific  thought  runs 
in  Poe's  lines,"  some  reference  to  Sir  William 
Thomson's  vortex  theory  of  the  constitution  of 
atoms,  but  its  resemblance  to  Poe's  theory  of  vor 
tices  is  only  superficial,  for  what  he  puts  forth  was 
merely  a  revival  of  one  of  the  earliest  attempts  to 
explain  the  Newtonian  law,  long  since  abandoned 


THE  END   OF   THE  PLAY.  297 

by  science.  It  is  true  that  in  several  particulars, 
such  as  the  doctrine  of  the  evolution  of  the  universe 
from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  Poe's  line  of  thought 
has  now  been  followed  out  in  detail ;  these  sugges 
tions,  however,  were  not  at  the  time  peculiar  to  Poe, 
were  not  originated  or  developed  by  him,  but  on 
the  contrary  were  common  scientific  property,  for 
he  appropriated  ideas,  just  as  he  paraphrased  state 
ments  of  fact,  from  the  books  he  read.  He  was  no 
more  a  forerunner  of  Spencer,  Faraday,  and  Dar 
win  than  scores  of  others,  and  he  did  nothing  to 
make  their  investigations  easier. 

Poe's  purely  scientific  speculations  are  mainly 
contained  in  the  unpublished  addenda  to  a  report 
of  his  lecture  on  "  The  Universe  "  sent  to  a  corre 
spondent,  and  consist  either  of  mathematical  expla 
nations  of  Kepler's  first  and  third  laws ;  or  of  state 
ments,  "  that  the  sun  was  condensed  at  once  (not 
gradually  according  to  the  supposition  of  Laplace) 
into  his  smallest  size,"  and  afterwards  "  sent  into 
space  his  substance  in  the  form  of  a  vapor  "  from 
which  Neptune  was  made ;  or  of  similar  theories. 
They  exhibit  once  more  Poe's  tenacity  of  mind,  the 
sleuth-hound  persistence  of  his  intellectual  pursuit ; 
but,  like  his  metaphysics,  they  represent  a  waste  of 
power.  They  are,  moreover,  characterized  by  ex 
traordinary  errors.  Some  of  the,  data  are  quite 
imaginary,  it  being  impossible  to  determine  what 
are  the  facts ;  some  of  them  are  quite  wrong.  The 
density  of  Jupiter,  for  example,  in  a  long  and  im- 


298  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

portant  calculation,  is  constantly  reckoned  as  two 
and  one  half,  whereas  it  is  only  something  more 
than  one  fifth,  and  the  densities  of  the  planets  are 
described  as  being  inversely  as  their  rotary  periods, 
whereas  in  any  table  of  the  elements  of  the  solar 
system  some  wide  departures  from  this  rule  are  ob 
servable.  Again,  it  is  stated  that  Kepler's  first 
and  third  laws  "  cannot  be  explained  upon  the 
principle  of  Newton's  theory;"  but,  in  fact,  they 
follow  by  mathematical  deduction  from  it.  Poe's 
own  explanation  of  them  is  merely  a  play  upon  fig 
ures.  A  striking  instance  of  fundamental  igno 
rance  of  astronomical  science  is  his  statement  at 
various  places  that  the  planets  rotate  (on  their  own 
axes)  in  elliptical  orbits,  and  the  reference  he  fre 
quently  make's  to  the  breadth  of  their  orbits  (the 
breadth  of  their  paths  through  space)  agreeably  to 
this  supposition.  Such  a  theory  is  incompatible 
with  the  Newtonian  law  of  gravitation,  according  to 
which  any  revolution  in  an  elliptical  orbit  implies 
a  source  of  attraction  at  the  focus  of  the  ellipse. 
Examples  of  bodies  which  have  breadth  of  orbit  in 
Poe's  sense  are  found  in  the  satellites  of  all  the 
planets,  each  of  which,  however,  has  its  primary  as 
a  source  of  attraction  to  keep  it  in  its  elliptical 
orbit ;  the  primary  by  its  revolution  round  the  sun 
gives  then  the  satellite  a  breadth  of  orbit.  But  to 
make  the  proper  rotation  of  the  planets  themselves 
take  place  about  a  focus,  which  would  be  merely  a 
point  moving  in  an  elliptical  orbit  about  the  sun. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  299 

would  be  to  give  them  an  arbitrary  motion  with  no 
force  to  produce  it. 

So  far  was  Poe  from  being  a  seer  of  science,  that 
he  was  fundamentally  in  error  with  regard  to  the 
generalizations  which  were  of  prime  importance  to 
his  speculations.  The  one  grand  assumption  of  his 
whole  speculation  is  the  universality  of  the  law  of 
inverse  squares  as  applied  to  attraction  and  re 
pulsion,  whereas  it  has  been  known  since  the  begin 
ning  of  study  regarding  them  that  that  law  does 
not  explain  all  the  forces  involved,  as,  for  example, 
molecular  forces;  and  for  this  Boscovich  himself 
had  provided.  Again,  to  illustrate  his  scientific 
foresight,  he  reproaches  Herschel  for  his  reluc 
tance  to  doubt  the  stability  of  the  universe,  and 
himself  boldly  affirms,  consistently  with  his  theory, 
that  it  is  in  a  state  of  ever  swifter  collapse ;  than 
this  nothing  could  be  more  at  variance  with  the 
great  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy.  Un 
doubtedly  Poe  had  talents  for  scientific  investiga 
tion,  had  he  been  willing  to  devote  himself  to  such 
work ;  but,  so  far  as  appears  from  this  essay,  he 
had  not  advanced  farther  in  science  that  the  ele 
ments  of  physics,  mathematics,  and  astronomy,  as 
he  had  learned  them  at  school  or  from  popular 
works,  such  as  Dr.  Nichol's  "  Architecture  of  the 
Heavens,"  or  from  generalizations,  such  as  the 
less  technical  chapters  of  Auguste  Comte's  "  La 
Philosophic  Positif."  Out  of  such  a  limited 
stock  of  knowledge  Poe  could  not  by  mere  re- 


300  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

flection  generate  any  Newtonian  truth ;  that  he 
thought  he  had  done  so,  measures  his  folly.  In  a 
word,  for  this  criticism  must  be  brought  to  a  close, 
"  Eureka "  affords  one  of  the  most  striking  in 
stances  in  literature  of  a  naturally  strong  intellect 
tempted  by  overweening  pride  to  an  Icarian  flight 
and  betrayed,  notwithstanding  its  merely  specious 
knowledge,  into  an  ignoble  exposure  of  its  own 
presumption  and  ignorance.  The  facts  are  not  to 
be  obscured  by  the  smooth  profession  of  Poe  that 
he  wished  this  work  to  be  looked  on  only  as  a 
poem  ;  for,  though  he  perceived  that  his  argument 
was  too  fragmentary  and  involved  to  receive  cre 
dence,  he  was  himself  profoundly  convinced  that 
he  had  revealed  the  secret  of  eternity.  Nor,  were 
"  Eureka  "  to  be  judged  as  a  poem,  that  is  to  say,  as 
a  fictitious  cosmogony,  would  the  decision  be  more 
favorable ;  even  then  so  far  as  it  is  obscure  to  the 
reader  it  must  be  pronounced  defective,  so  far  as 
it  is  understood,  involving  as  it  does  in  its  primary 
conceptions  incessant  contradictions  of  the  necessary 
laws  of  thought,  it  must  be  pronounced  meaningless. 
Poe  believed  himself  to  be  that  extinct  being,  a  uni 
versal  genius  of  the  highest  order;  and  he  wrote 
this  essay  to  prove  his  powers  in  philosophy  and  in 
science.  To  the  correspondent  to  whom  he  sent 
the  addenda  he  declared,  "  As  to  the  lecture,  I  am 
very  quiet  about  it  —  but  if  you  have  ever  dealt 
with  such  topics,  you  will  recognize  the  novelty  and 
moment  of  my  views.  What  I  have  propounded 


THE  END   OF   THE  PLAY.  301 

will  (in  good  time)  revolutionize  the  world  of 
Physical  and  Metaphysical  science.  I  say  this 
calmly,  but  I  say  it." l  Poe  succeeded  only  in 
showing  how  egregiously  genius  may  mistake  its 
realm. 

Besides  "  Eureka,"  Poe's  publications  for  the 
first  half  year  were  of  the  slightest,  consisting  only 
of  "Marginalia,"  in  January  and  February,  and 
"  Fifty  Suggestions,"  in  May  and  June  (a  paper 
of  the  same  character),  in  "  Graham's,"  and  •"  An 
Enigma,"  an  anagrammatic  poem  to  Sarah  Ann 
Lewis,  commonly  called  "Estelle,"  in  the  "Union," 
in  March. 

A  glimpse  of  his  life  at  home  is  afforded  by  an 
affectionate  reminiscence  of  Mrs.  Clemm's,  which 
was  reported  by  Mr.  R.  E.  Shapley,  of  Philadel 
phia,  in  a  newspaper,  and  has  by  chance  been  pre 
served  ;  in  the  main  parts  it  seems  to  apply  to  the 
whole  period  of  his  widowerhood  :  — 

"  He  never  liked  to  be  alone,  and  I  used  to  sit  up  with 
him,  often  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  at  his 
desk,  writing,  and  I  dozing  in  my  chair.  When  he  was 
composing  '  Eureka,'  we  used  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
garden,  his  arm  around  me,  mine  around  him,  until  I 
was  so  tired  I  could  not  walk.  He  would  stop  every  few 
minutes  and  explain  his  ideas  to  me,  and  ask  if  I  un 
derstood  him.  I  always  sat  up  with  him  when  he  was 
writing,  and  gave  him  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  every  hour 
or  two.  At  home  he  was  simple  and  affectionate  as  a 
1  Poe  to .  Ingram,  ii.  141. 

. 
tr 


302  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

child,  and  during  all  the  years  he  lived  with  me  I  do 
not  remember  a  single  night  that  he  failed  to  come  and 
kiss  his  '  mother,'  as  he  called  me,  before  going  to  bed." 

The  principal  event  of  his  private  life,  when 
"  Eureka  "  was  being  published,  was  the  termina 
tion of  his  social  intercourse  with  Mrs.  Shew. 
Since  the  death  of  Virginia,  this  lady  had  main 
tained  her  intimacy  with  the  family,  and  had  ac 
tively  befriended  him  in  his  literary  projects.  In 
the  earlier  part  of  the  year  she  had  asked  him  to 
furnish  the  music  room  and  library  of  a  new  house 
which  she  was  to  occupy,  and  she  made  him  at 
home  when  he  visited  her.  One  such  visit  is  es 
pecially  of  interest,  since  to  it  has  been  ascribed 
the  first  suggestion  of  Poe's  second  great  popular 
poem,  "The  Bells."  It  was  early  in  the  summer 
that  he  one  day  called  and  complained  that  he  had 
to  write  a  poem,  but  felt  no  inspiration.  Mrs. 
Shew  persuaded  him  to  drink  some  tea  in  a  con 
servatory  whose  open  windows  admitted  the  sound 
of  church-bells,  and  gave  him  some  paper,  which 
he  declined,  saying,  "  I  so  dislike  the  noise  of  bells 
to-night,  I  cannot  write.  I  have  no  subject — I 
am  exhausted."  Mrs.  Shew  then  wrote,  "  The 
Bells,  by  E.  A.  Poe,"  and  added,  "  The  bells,  the 
little  silver  bells ; "  on  the  poet's  finishing  the 
stanza  thus  suggested,  she  again  wrote,  "  The  heavy 
iron  bells,"  and  this  idea  also  Poe  elaborated,  and 
then  copying  off  the  two  stanzas,  headed  it,  "  By 
Mrs.  M.  L.  Shew,"  and  called  it  her  poem. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  303 

Such,  nearly  in  Mr.  Ingram's  own  words,  is  the 
story  which  he  derived  from  Mrs.  Shew's  diary. 
But  although  the  incident  is,  without  doubt,  truly 
related,  it  may  be  questioned  whether  this  was  the 
original  genesis  of  the  poem.  It  will  be  remem 
bered  that  Poe  derived  several  suggestions  from 
Chateaubriand  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  career. 
The  parallelism  that  exists  between  the  completed 
poem  of  "  The  Bells  "  and  a  brief  chapter  of  the 
"  Genie  du  Christianisme  "  is  at  least  worth  notic 
ing,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  be  a  fortuitous  coinci 
dence.  The  following  extract  will  sufficiently  illus 
trate  the  matter. 

"  II  nous  semble  que  si  nous  etions  poete,  nous  ne  de- 
daignerions  point  cette  cloche  agitee  par  les  fantomes 
dans  la  vieille  chapelle  de  la  foret,  ni  celle  qu'une  re- 
ligieuse  f rayeur  balan<joit  dans  nos  campagnes  pour  ecar- 
ter  le  tonnerre,  ni  celle  qu'on  sonnoit  la  nuit,  dans  cer 
tains  ports  de  mer,  pour  diriger  le  pilote  a,  travers  les 
ecueils.  Les  carillons  des  cloches,  au  milieu  de  nos 
fetes,  sembloient  augmenter  1'allegresse  publique ;  dans 
des  calamites,  au  contraire,  ces  memes  bruits  devenoient 
terribles.  Les  cheveux  dressent  encore  sur  la  tete  au 
souvenir  de  ces  jours  de  meurtre  et  de  feu,  retentissant 
des  clameurs  du  tocsin.  Qui  de  nous  a  perdu  la  me'moire 
de  ces  hurlements,  de  ces  cris  aigus,  entrecoupes  de  si 
lences,  durant  lesquels  on  distinguoit  de  rares  coups  de 
fusil,  quelque  voix  lamentable  et  solitaire,  et  surtout  le 
bourdonnement  de  la  cloche  d'alarme,  ou  le  son  de  1'hor- 
ologe  qui  frappoit  tranquillement  1'heure  ecoulee  ?  "  * 

1  Genie  du  Christianisme.  Par  M.  le  Vicomte  de  Chateaubriand. 
Paris,  P.  Pourrat  Freres,  1836  :  tome  ii.,  261. 


304  EDGAR    ALLAN  POE. 

In  view  of  Poe's  known  habits  of  composition,  it 
is  most  likely  that  this  poetic  suggestion  in  a  work 
to  which  he  was  in  early  years  under  considerable 
obligations,  was  one  of  the  ideas  that  haunted  him 
for  years,  and  this  is  sustained  by  his  frequent  ref 
erence  to  the  magical  sounds  of  bells  throughout 
his  literary  life.  It  may  well  be  that  this  is  the 
poem  referred  to  in  Gris wold's  memoir  as  the  sub 
ject  on  which  he  meant  to  write  for  the  Boston  Ly 
ceum  —  "  a  subject  which  he  said  had  haunted  his 
imagination  for  years."  l  If  there  be  any  plausi 
bility  in  this  inference,  the  likelihood  is  that  Mrs. 
Shew,  who  pleads  guilty  to  Poe's  reproach  that  she 
never  read  his  tales  or  poems,  merely  recalled  to 
him  thoughts  and  words  which  she  already  knew 
had  been  running  in  his  mind. 

The  events  immediately  subsequent  to  this  inci 
dent  also  deserve  mention.  Word  was  sent  to 
Mrs.  Clemm  that  Poe  would  remain  in  the  city, 
and,  going  to  his  room,  he  slept  twelve  hours,  after 
which  he  only  faintly  remembered  what  he  had 
done.  "  This  showed,"  says  the  diary,  "  that  his 
mind  was  injured,  nearly  gone  out  for  want  of  food 
and  from  disappointment.  He  had  not  been  drink 
ing,  and  had  only  been  a  few  hours  from  home. 
Evidently  his  vitality  was  low  and  he  was  nearly 
insane.  While  he  slept  we  studied  his  pulse,  and 
found  the  same  symptoms  which  I  had  so  often  no 
ticed  before.  I  called  in  Dr.  Francis  (the  old  man 

1  Griswold,  xxxviii. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  305 

was  odd,  but  very  skillful),  who  was  one  of  our 
neighbors.  His  words  were,  '  He  has  heart  disease 
and  will  die  early  in  life.'  "  l  On  the  next  day  he 
was  taken  home  by  his  friend,  but  did  not  seem  to 
understand  that  he  was  ill. 

It  must  have  been  very  soon  after  this  that  Mrs. 
Shew,  finding  that  her  protege  was  too  irresponsible 
and  too  romantic  to  be  allowed  such  freedom  with 
her  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to,  broke  off  the  ac 
quaintance.  -J^oe^  who  was  never  very  sensible  of 
the  social  realities  of  life,  seems  in  these  last  years 
to  have  been  unable  to  observe  the  limits  set  by  the 
world  to  even  the  most  genuine  and  pure  devotion 
in  such  a  case.  The  consequence  which,  although 
he  had  foreseen  it,  must,  in  his  state  of  health, 
have  been  hard  to  endure,  was  the  sudden  and 
complete  cessation  of  intercourse  between  the  fami 
lies.  In  June  Mrs.  Shew  wrote  an  explanatory 
letter  to  him,  and  he  replied  as  follows,  but  they 
never  afterwards  met  on  the  old  terms  :  — 

"  Can  it  be  true,  Louise,  that  you  have  the  idea  fixed 
in  your  mind  to  desert  your  unhappy  and  unfortunate 
friend  and  patient  ?  You  did  not  say  so,  I  know,  but 
for  months  I  have  known  you  were  deserting  me,  not 
willingly,  but  none  the  less  surely  —  my  destiny  — 

'  Disaster,  following  fast  and  following  faster,  till  his  song  one 

burden  bore  — 
Till  the  dirges  of  his  Hope  that  melancholy  burden  bore  — 

Of  "  Never  —  nevermore."  ' 

1  Ingram,  ii.  156. 
20 


306  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

So  I  have  had  premonitions  of  this  for  months.  I  re 
peat,  my  good  spirit,  my  loyal  heart !  must  this  follow 
as  a  sequel  to  all  the  benefits  and  blessings  you  have  so 
generously  bestowed  ?  Are  you  to  vanish  like  all  I  love, 
or  desire,  from  my  darkened  and  '  lost  soul '  ?  I  have 
read  over  your  letter  again  and  again,  and  cannot  make 
it  possible,  with  any  degree  of  certainty,  that  you  wrote 
it  in  your  right  mind.  (J  know  you  did  not  without 
tears  of  anguish  and  regret.)  Is  it  possible  your  influ 
ence  is  lost  to  me  ?  Such  tender  and  true  natures  are 
ever  loyal  until  death  ;  but  you  are  not  dead,  you  are 
full  of  life  and  beauty !  Louise,  you  came  in,  ...  in 
your  floating  white  robe  —  '  Good  morning,  Edgar/ 
There  was  a  touch  of  conventional  coldness  in  your 
hurried  manner,  and  your  attitude  as  you  opened  the 
kitchen  door  to  find  Muddie,  is  my  last  remembrance  of 
you.  There  was  love,  hope,  and  sorrow  in  your  smile, 
instead  of  love,  hope,  and  courage,  as  ever  before.  O 
Louise,  how  many  sorrows  are  before  you !  Your  in 
genuous  and  sympathetic  nature  will  be  constantly 
wounded  in  its  contact  with  the  hollow,  heartless  world ; 
and  for  me,  alas  !  unless  some  true  and  tender,  and  pure 
womanly  love  saves  me,  I  shall  hardly  last  a  year  longer 
alive  !  A  few  short  months  will  tell  how  far  my  strength 
(physical  and  moral)  will  carry  me  in  life  here.  How 
can  I  believe  in  Providence  when  you  look  coldly 
upon  me  ?  Was  it  not  you  who  renewed  my  hopes  and 
faith  in  God  ?  .  .  .  and  in  humanity  ?  Louise,  I  heard 
your  voice  as  you  passed  out  of  my  sight  leaving  me  .  .  . ; 
but  I  still  listened  to  your  voice.  I  heard  you  say  with  a 
sob,  '  Dear  Muddie.'  I  heard  you  greet  my  Catarina, 
but  it  was  only  as  a  memory  .  .  .  nothing  escaped  my  ear, 


THE  END    OF  THE  PLAY.  307 

and  I  was  convinced  it  was  not  your  generous  self  .  .  . 
repeating  words  so  foreign  to  your  nature  —  to  your  , 
tender  heart !  I  heard  you  sob  out  your  sense  of  duty 
to  my  mother,  and  I  heard  her  reply,  '  Yes,  Loui  .  .  . 
yes.'  .  .  .  Why  turn  your  soul  from  its  true  work  for  the 
desolate  to  the  thankless  and  miserly  world  ?  .  .  .  I  felt 
my  heart  stop,  and  I  was  sure  I  was  then  to  die  before 
your  eyes.  Louise,  it  is  well  —  it  is  fortunate  —  you 
looked  up  with  a  tear  in  your  dear  eyes,  and  raised  the 
window,  and  talked  of  the  guava  you  had  brought  for 
my  sore  throat.  Your  instincts  are  better  than  a  strong 
man's  reason  for  me  —  I  trust  they  may  be  for  your 
self.  Louise,  I  feel  I  shall  not  prevail  —  a  shadow  has 
already  fallen  upon  your  soul,  and  is  reflected  in  your 
eyes.  It  is  too  late  —  you  are  floating  away  with  the 
cruel  tide  ...  it  is  not  a  common  trial  —  it  is  a  fearful 
one  to  me.  Such  rare  souls  as  yours  so  beautify  this 
earth !  so  relieve  it  of  all  that  is  repulsive  and  sordid. 
So  brighten  its  toils  and  cares,  it  is  hard  to  lose  sight  of 
them  even  for  a  short  time  .  .  .  but  you  must  know  and 
be  assured  of  my  regret  and  sorrow  if  aught  I  have 
ever  written  has  hurt  you.  My  heart  never  wronged 
you.  I  place  you  in  my  esteem  —  in  all  solemnity  — 
beside  the  friend  of  my  boyhood  —  the  mother  of  my 
school-fellow,  of  whom  I  told  you,  and  as  I  have  repeated 
in  the  poem  ...  as  the  truest,  tenderest  of  this  world's 
most  womanly  souls,  and  an  angel  to  my  forlorn  and 
darkened  nature.  I  will  riot  say  '  lost  soul '  again,  for 
your  sake.  I  will  try  to  overcome  my  grief  for  the  sake 
of  your  unselfish  care  of  me  in  the  past,  and  in  life  or 
death,  I  am  ever  yours  gratefully  and  devotedly, 

"  EDGAR  A.  POE."  1 
1  Tnjrram,  ii.  157-159. 


308  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Poe  was  not  to  remain  long  in  this  forlorn  condi 
tion.  He  had  indulged  for  some  years  one  of  his 
silent  ideal  adorations  for  Mrs.  Sarah  Helen  Whit 
man,  a  poetess  of  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  to 
whom  he  had  been  attracted  by  a  verbal  descrip- 
tion  of  her  eccentricities  and  sorrows.  Of  this 
ideal  passion  no  words  except  his  own  can  convey 
an  adequate  idea,  although  it  must  be  premised 
that  the  following  passages  were  not  written  until 
after  he  had  met  the  lady. 

"  She  [his  informant]  had  referred  to  thoughts,  senti 
ments,  traits,  moods,  which  I  knew  to  be  my  own,  but 
which,  until  that  moment,  I  had  believed  to  be  my  own 
solely  —  unshared  by  any  human  being.  A  profound 
sympathy  took  immediate  possession  of  my  soul.  I  can 
not  better  explain  to  you  what  I  felt  than  by  saying  that 
your  unknown  heart  seemed  to  pass  into  my  bosom  — 
there  to  dwell  forever  —  while  mine,  I  thought,  was 
translated  into  your  own.  From  that  hour  I  loved  you. 
Since  that  period  I  have  never  seen  nor  heard  your 
name  without  a  shiver,  half  of  delight,  half  of  anxiety. 
—  The  impression  left  upon  my  mind  was  that  you  were 
still  a  wife,  and  it  is  only  within  the  last  few  months  that 
I  have  been  undeceived  in  this  respect.  For  this  reason 
I  shunned  your  presence  and  even  the  city  in  which  you 
lived.  You  may  remember  that  once  when  I  passed 
through  Providence  with  Mrs.  Osgood  I  positively  re 
fused  to  accompany  her  to  your  house,  and  even  pro 
voked  her  into  a  quarrel  by  the  obstinacy  and  seeming 
unreasonableness  of  my  refusal.  I  dared  neither  go  nor 
say  why  I  could  not.  I  dared  not  speak  of  you  — 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  309 

much  less  see  you.  For  years  your  name  never  passed 
my  lips,  while  my  soul  drank  in,  with  a  delirious  thirst, 
all  that  was  uttered  in  my  presence  respecting  you. 
The  merest  whisper  that  concerned  you  awoke  in  me  a 
shuddering  sixth  sense,  vaguely  compounded  of  fear,  ec 
static  happiness,  and  a  wild  inexplicable  sentiment  that 
resembled  nothing  so  nearly  as  a  consciousness  of  guilt."  l 

Mrs.  Whitman,  on  her  part,  had  been  informed 
of  frequent  commendatory  allusions  to  herself  made 
by  Poe,  and  was  prevailed  upon  to  address  some 
verses  to  him  for  the  entertainment  of  what  was 
termed  a  valentine  party  given  by  some  literary 
friends  in  New  York.  The  two  did  not  meet 
on  this  occasion ;  but  the  verses,  published  in  the 
"  Home  Journal,"  March  18  (now  entitled  "The 
Raven,"  in  Mrs.  Whitman's  "Poems")  were  sent 
to  Poe.  He  says,  in  the  continuation  of  the  let 
ter  just  quoted,  that  he  was  thrown  into  a  state 
of  ecstasy  by  this  proof  of  her  regard,  and,  as  he 
could  not  express  his  emotion  in  spontaneous  lines, 
took  down  a  volume  of  his  old  poems  and  read  "  To 
Helen,"  with  the  result  that  the  identity  of  name 
and  the  aptness  of  the  sentiment,  which  to  one  ac 
customed  to  the  Calculus  of  Probabilities  wore  an 
air  of  positive  miracle,  overwhelmed  him  with  the 
belief  that  their  destinies  were  conjoined.  He  was, 
at  least,  aroused  to  the  point  of  composition,  and 

replied  to  her  valentine  with  the  lines  "To ," 

afterwards  elaborated  into  the  beautiful,  if  not  im 
passioned  poem  "  To  Helen,"  which  is  supposed  to 

1  Poe  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  no  date.     Ingram,  ii.  161,  162. 


310  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

commemorate  his  first  sight  of  this  lady  when,  on 
his  way  back  from  his  first  visit  to  Boston,  in  the 
summer  of  1845,  he  had  observed  her  among  the 
roses  of  her  garden  in  the  moonlight.  Whether 
this  legend  be  true  or  not  —  and  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  it  —  the  scene  of  the  lines  is  clearly  a 
mere  elaboration  of  that  suggested  in  the  seventh 
stanza  of  Mrs.  Whitman's  "  The  Raven,"  in  con 
nection  with  the  vista  obviously  repeated  from  his 
lines  of  the  previous  year  to  Mrs.  Shew.  This 
poem  was  afterwards  printed  in  the  "  Union  .Maga 
zine  "  for  November ;  but  as  at  this  time  it  drew 
no  acknowledgment  from  its  object,  to  whom,  al 
though  he  had  not  as  yet  been  introduced,  he  sent 
a  written  copy  still  without  his  name,  he  soon  af 
ter^  June  10,  applied  to  his  visitor  of  the  previous 
autumn,  Miss  Anna  Blackwell,  who  was  then  at 
Providence,  and  begged  her  to  write  him  some 
thing  about  Mrs.  Whitman,  and  added  "  keej)  my 
secret  —  that  is  to  say,  let  no  one  know  I  have 
asked  you  to  do  so."  l  This  lady  did  not  answer  his 
note  ;  on  the  contrary,  hearing  Miss  Maria  Mcln- 
tosh,  another  literary  woman,  tell  Mrs.  Whitman 
that  one  evening  at  Fordham  a  month  previously 
Poe  had  talked  only  of  her,  Miss  Blackwell  gave 
the  letter  at  once  to  Mrs.  Whitman  herself,  who 
continued  to  observe  an  obstinate  silence  towards 
her  admirer.2 

1  Ingram,  ii.  165. 

2  Cf.  Mrs.  Whitman  to  R.  H.  Stoddard,  September  30,  1872. 
Stoclflard,  cxxxiv.  -  cxxxix. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  311 

In  the  following  month  Poe  went  to  Lowell, 
Mass.,  the  residence  of  his  old  correspondent,  Mrs. 
Locke,  and  lectured  on  "  The  Poetic  Principle." 
There  he  made  acquaintance  with  a  family  who 
became  his  devoted  friends.  Immediately  upon  his 
return  to  New  York,  being  furnished  with  funds 
for  his  long-delayed  journey  in  behalf  of  the  "  Sty 
lus,"  derived  possibly  from  this  lecture  or  the  two 
advances  made  on  "  Eureka,"  he  started  for  Rich- 
mond.  In  that  city  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  John  R.  Thompson,  editor  of  the  "  Southern 
Literary  Messenger,"  of  whose  office  he  made  a  re 
sort,  and  among  his  old  friends  he  met  his  boyish 
flame,  Miss  Royster,  now  the  widow  Shelton,  well 
supplied  with  worldly  goods  and  well  disposed  to 
ward  himself.  He  was  on  the  point  of  taking  up 
the  youthful  romance  and  proposing  marriage  to 
her,  when  he  received  from  Mrs.  Whitman,  who 
had  begun  to  question  the  propriety  of  her  neglect, 
two  stanzas  of  her  poem,  "  A  Night  in  August," 
unsigned,  and  sent,  she  says,  after  a  lapse  of  more 
than  two  months,  in  "  playful  acknowledgment " 
of  his  own  anonymous  lines.  In  the  letter  already 
quoted,  Poe  represents  his  state  of  mind  during 
her  silence  as  a  hoping  against  hope  culminating  in 
a  spirit  far  more  reckless  than  despair ;  and  he 
concludes,  referring  to  his  intention  of  offering  his 
hand  to  Mrs.  Shelton  at  this  stage,  "  your  lines 
reached  me  in  Richmond  on  the  very  day  in  which 
I  was  about  to  enter  on  a  course  which  would  have 


312  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

borne  me  far,  far  away,  from  you,  sweet,  sweet 
Helen,  and  from  the  divine  dream  of  your  love." 
He  left  with  Mr.  Thompson  for  publication  in  "  The 
Messenger,"  a  criticism  of  Mrs.  Lewis's  poems, 
printed  in  the  September  number,  and  "  The  Ra 
tionale  of  Verse,"  printed  in  the  October  and  No 
vember  numbers,  and  immediately  returned  to 
Fordham.  There  he  found  time  to  write  an  open 
letter,  September  20,  to  Mr.  C.  F.  Hoffman,  of 
"  The  Literary  World,"  in  reply  to  a  criticism  on 
"  Eureka  "  which  had  appeared  during  his  absence, 
and  in  which  he  observes  that  the  ground  covered 
by  Laplace  compares  with  that  covered  by  his 
own  theory  as  a  bubble  with  the  ocean  on  which  it 
floats ;  and,  on  the  next  day,  if  Mrs.  Whitman's 
date  be  correct,  having  obtained  a  letter  of  intro 
duction  from  Miss  Mclntosh,  he  presented  himself 
to  his  poetical  correspondent,  passed  two  evenings 
in  her  company,  and  with  a  characteristic  choice  of 
place,  asked  her,  as  they  were  walking  in  the  cem 
etery,  to  marry  him.  Mrs.  Whitman,  who  had  de 
layed  her  reply,  wrote  to  him  a  letter  in  which, 
as  may  be  gathered  from  Poe's  indignant  protest 
against  confounding  so  spiritual  a  love  as  his  with 
merely  mortal  matters,  she  referred  to  her  age  — 
she  was  forty-five  and  had  been  widowed  for  the 
past  fifteen  years  —  her  personal  appearance,  and 
her  illness  ;  but  such  objections  could  not  withstand 
the  high  style  of  Poe's  vein,  and  she  was  forced  to 
acknowledge,  though  rather  by  suggestion  than  con- 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  313 

fession,  the  real  ground  of  her  refusal,  which  was 
the  representations  of  her  friends  in  regard  to 
Poe's  character.  To  this  he  replied,  October  18, 
with  a  protestation  that  "with  the  exception  of  oc 
casional  follies  and  excesses  which  I  bitterly  lament 
but  to  which  I  have  been  driven  by  intolerable  sor 
row,  and  which  are  hourly  committed  by  others 
without  attracting  any  notice  whatever  —  I  can 
call  to  mind  no  act  of  my  life  which  would  bring  a 
blush  to  my  cheek  —  or  to  yours."  1  He  reminded 
her  of  the  enemies  he  had  made  by  his  published 
criticisms,  of  the  result  of  his  libel  case,  and  of  her 
distance  from  his  friends,  and  concluded  with  a 
sketch  of  the  secluded  Eden  he  had  fancied  for 
their  abode  (out  of  "  Landor's  Cottage  "  which  he 
was  then  writing),  and  expressions  of  his  sorrow 
that  his  dream  was  not  to  be  realized,  of  his  deep 
devotion  to  herself,  his  utter  hopelessness  and  the 
agony  of  his  determination  to  abandon  his  fruitless 
wooing. 

Soon  after  dispatching  this  letter,  however,  being 
on  his  way  to  Lowell  to  deliver  a  new  lecture,  he 
stopped  at  Providence,  and,  calling  upon  Mrs. 
Whitman,  he  again  urged  her  to  accept  his  hand 
and  realize  the  last  and  brightest  hope  that  re 
mained  to  him  in  life.  She  promised  still  to  enter 
tain  his  proposal,  and  to  write  to  him  at  Lowell 
the  decision  at  which  she  should  arrive.  Thither 
he  went,  and  though  he  did  not  deliver  his  lecture, 
1  Ingram,  ii.  171. 


814  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

cemented  his  acquaintance  with  his  new  friends 
and  spent  some  days  at  the  village  of  Westford, 
where  he  rested,  waited,  strolled  off  '  to  look  at  the 
hills,'  and  enjoyed  the  society  of  "  Annie,"  whom 
he  had  taken  into  his  confidence,  and  of  her  sister. 
The  latter,  who  was  then  a  school-girl,  in  her  rem 
iniscences  of  Poe,  draws  the  familiar  portrait  of 
him,  self-possessed,  serious,  deferential  to  all  wo 
men,  distinguished  by  the  large,  deep  eyes  and 
low  baritone  voice  that  charmed  so  many  of  them ; 
but  she  adds  nothing  of  novel  interest  except  a 
quiet  indoor  scene,  curiously  illustrative  of  the 
speed  with  which  he  established  a  habit  of  inti 
macy  with  married  women. 

"  My  memory  photographs  him,  sitting  before  an  open 
wood  fire,  in  the  early  autumn  evening,  gazing  intently 
into  the  glowing  coal,  holding  the  hand  of  a  dear  friend 
—  <  Annie  '  —  while  for  a  long  tune  no  one  spoke,  and 
the  only  sound  was  the  ticking  of  the  tall  old  clock  in 
the  corner  of  the  room."  l 

About  the  second  of  November,  having  received 
an  indecisive  letter  from  Mrs.  Whitman,  who  seems 
to  have  been  always  struggling  between  her  incli 
nation  and  her  prudence,  and  having  replied  that 
he  would  call  at  her  house  on  Saturday,  Novem 
ber  4,  he  left  this  pleasant  home. 

Two  weeks  later  he  wrote  to  his  friend  at  Low 
ell,  referring  to  what  happened  after  he  bade  her 
farewell,  as  follows  :  — 

1  Ingrain,  ii.  190. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  315 

"  I  remember  nothing  distinctly  from  that  moment 
until  I  found  myself  in  Providence.  I  went  to  bed  and 
wept  through  a  long,  long,  hideous  night  of  Despair  — 
When  the  day  broke,  I  arose  and  endeavored  to  quiet 
my  mind  by  a  rapid  walk  in  the  cold,  keen  air  —  but  all 
would  not  do  —  the  Demon  tormented  me  still.  Finally, 
I  procured  two  ounces  of  laudanum,  and  without  return 
ing  to  my  hotel,  took  the  cars  back  to  Boston.  When  I 
arrived  I  wrote  you  a  letter,  in  which  I  opened  my  whole 
heart  to  you  —  to  you.  ...  I  told  you  how  my  strug 
gles  were  more  than  I  could  bear.  ...  I  then  reminded 
you  of  that  holy  promise  which  was  the  last  I  exacted 
from  you  in  parting  —  the  promise  that,  under  all  cir 
cumstances,  you  would  come  to  me  on  my  bed  of  death. 
I  implored  you  to  come  then,  mentioning  the  place 
where  I  should  be  found  in  Boston.  Having  written 
this  letter,  I  swallowed  about  half  the  laudanum,  and 
hurried  to  the  Post  Office,  intending  not  to  take  the  rest 
until  I  saw  you  —  for,  I  did  not  doubt  for  one  moment, 
that  Annie  would  keep  her  sacred  promise.  But  I  had 
not  calculated  on  the  strength  of  the  laudanum,  for,  be 
fore  I  reached  the  Post  Office  my  reason  was  entirely 
gone,  and  the  letter  was  never  put  in.  Let  me  pass  over 
—  my  darling  sister  —  the  awful  horrors  that  succeeded. 
A  friend  was  at  hand,  who  aided,  and  (if  it  can  be  called 
saving)  saved  me,  but  it  is  only  within  the  last  three 
days  that  I  have  been  able  to  remember  what  occurred 
in  that  dreary  interval.  It  appears  that,  after  the  laud 
anum  was  rejected  from  the  stomach,  I  became  calm,  and 
to  a  casual  observer,  sane  —  so  that  I  was  suffered  to  go 
back  to  Providence."  * 

1  Poe  to  "Annie,"  November  16,  1848.     Ingram,  ii.  193,  194. 


316  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  November  7,  Poe  called  at 
Mrs.  Whitman's  ;  but  she,  having  been  alarmed,  it 
is  said,  by  his  failure  to  keep  his  engagement  the 
previous  Saturday,  which  she  distinctly  ascribes  to 
his  having  become  intoxicated  in  Boston,  refused 
to  see  him  until  noon,  despite  all  the  messages  that 
he  could  invent.  In  the  afternoon  he  again  called, 
by  appointment,  and  once  more  implored  her  to 
marry  him  at  once  and  return  with  him  to  New 
York.  He  excused  his  excesses  in  Boston  on  the 
ground  of  his  anxiety  in  respect  to  her  decision, 
and  on  that  and  the  following  day  continued  to 
i  plead  his  cause  with  all  his  eloquent  abandonment 
of  language  and  manner.  The  details  of  the  ter 
mination  of  this  interview  and  of  its  consequences 
have  been  narrated  by  Mrs.  Whitman  herself  with 
slight  variations.  The  earliest  account,  so  far  as  is 
known,  is  contained  in  a  private  letter  of  March, 
1860.  In  this,  after  mentioning  that  Poe  "had 
vehemently  urged  me  to  an  immediate  marriage," 
she  continues  as  follows :  — 

"  As  an  additional  reason  for  delaying  a  marriage 
which,  under  any  circumstances,  seemed  to  all  my 
friends  full  of  evil  portents,  I  read  to  him  some  passages 
from  a  letter  which  I  had  recently  received  from  one  of 
his  New  York  associates.  He  seemed  deeply  pained 
and  wounded  by  the  result  of  our  interview,  and  left  me 
abruptly,  saying  that  if  we  met  again  it  would  be  as 
strangers.  He  passed  the  evening  in  the  bar-room  of  his 
hotel,  and  after  a  night  of  delirious  frenzy,  returned  the 


THE  END   OF   THE  PLAY.  317 

next  day  to  my  mother's  house  in  a  state  of  great  mental 
excitement  and  suffering,  declaring  that  his  welfare  for 
time  and  eternity  depended  on  me.  A  physician,  Dr. 
O.  H.  Oakie,  was  sent  for  by  my  mother,  who,  perceiv 
ing  indications  of  brain  fever,  advised  his  removal  to  the 
house  of  his  friend  W.  J.  Pabodie,  of  this  city,  where  he 
was  kindly  cared  for  until  his  recovery."  l 

Later  and  possibly  more  accurate  accounts  change 
r  some  of  these  details  and  amplify  others.  In  the 
V  interview  of  November  8,  according  to  these,  Mrs. 
Whitman  showed  Poe  several  letters,  one  of  which 
especially  moved  him ;  on  reading  it,  further  con 
fidential  conversation  being  prevented  by  visitors, 
he  took  leave  at  once  with  a  look  of  strange  excite 
ment,  and  made  no  reply  to  her  invitation,  "  We 
shall  see  you  this  evening?"  He  did  not,  however, 
return,  but  sent  a  note  of  renunciation.  On  the 
next  day  when  Poe  called,  he  was  so  uncontrol 
lable  that  his  passionate  appeals  rang  through  the 
house.  "  Never  have  I  heard  anything  so  awful," 
records  Mrs.  Whitman,  "  awful  even  to  sublimity. 
It  was  long  before  I  could  nerve  myself  to  see  him. 
^STy  mother  was  with  him  more  than  two  hours 
before  I  entered  the  room.  He  hailed  me  as  an 
angel  sent  to  save  him  from  perdition.  ...  In  the 
afternoon  he  grew  more  composed,  and  my  mother 
sent  for  Dr.  Oakie.'  "  2 

In    consequence    of   this   pitiable    exhibition   of 
Mrs.  Whitman  to .    MS. 

r? 


2  Ingram,  ii.  176. 


318  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

Poe's  state,  and  with  the  hope  of  helping  him  in 
what  seemed  to  be  a  last  struggle  for  life  itself, 
Mrs.  Whitman  consented  within  a  few  days  to  a 
conditional  engagement.  Forced  to  be  content  with 
this,  Poe,  having  on  his  side  repeated  the  promise 
of  reform  that  he  had  given  to  every  woman  whom 
he  had  known  intimately,  returned  to  New  York 
on  November  14,  and  on  the  same  evening  wrote  to 
assure  his  fiancee  that  he  had  not  dared  to  break 
his  pledge. 

In  spite,  however,  of  his  success  in  so  difficult 
and  indeed  desperate  a  wooing,  he  felt  little  of  the 
happiness  of  an  accepted  lover.  He  arrived  at 
Fordham  safely,  but  so  changed  in  outward  ap 
pearance  by  the  wear  of  the  last  fortnight  that  Mrs. 
Clemm  declares,  in  a  letter  to  "  Annie,"  written 
two  days  later,  he  was  hardly  recognizable.  All 
the  previous  night,  according  to  the  same  author 
ity,  he  had  raved  about  this  last  lady,  and  the  same 
day,  November  16,  he  also  wrote  to  her  a  letter 
which  is  inexplicable  on  the  theory  that  he  put 
any  faith  in  the  happy  issue  of  his  betrothal,  since 
after  giving  the  account,  already  quoted,  of  his 
suicidal  attempt  at  Boston,  he  proposes  to  take 
a  cottage  for  his  mother  and  himself  at  Westford, 
where  he  might  see  her  family  every  day  and  her 
self  often,  and  concludes  with  a  passionate  appeal 
that  she  would  come  on  to  Fordham  at  once,  if  only 
for  a  week,  saying,  "I  am  so  ill  —  so  terribly,  hope 
lessly  ill  in  body  and  mind,  that  I  feel  I  cannot 


THE   END   OF    THE   PLAY.  319 

live."  1  In  his  next  letter,  however,  written  four 
days  later,  to  Edward  Valentine,  the  brother  of  the 
first  Mrs.  Allan,  and  containing  merely  a  request 
for  the  loan  of  1200  to  start  the  "  Stylus,"  he 
.^expresses  a  strong  hope  of  surmounting  his  diffi 
culties.  On  November  21,  22,  and  24,  and  pre 
sumably  on  other  dates,  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Whit 
man,  warning  her  against  his  slanderers,  particu 
larly  the  women,  begging  her  to  be  true  to  him,  as 
his  sole  hope  was  in  her  love,  and  drawing  golden 
anticipations  of  their  worldly  triumph.  Mean 
while,  on  November  23,  he  had  written  to  "An 
nie's  "  sister,  already  mentioned,  in  hardly  less 
affectionate  terms  than  to  herself  or  Mrs.  Whit 
man,  protesting  his  love  for  "  Annie  "  and  implor 
ing  an  answer  to  his  former  letter  to  the  latter 
with  a  fervor  amply  indicated  by  a  single  line  : 
"Her  silence  fills  my  whole  soul  with  terror."  2 

With  such  conflicting  and  exhausting  emotions, 
which  happily  have  not  been  further  disclosed  by 
his  confidants,  Poe  passed  another  fortnight.  On 
J)eeember  20  he  left  Fordham  to  give  the  fifth 
lecture  before  the  Franklin  Lyceum  of  Provi 
dence.  __At  the  New  York  station  he  met  a  lady, 
who  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Poe,  are  you  going  to 
Providence  to  be  married?"  "I  am  going,"  he 
replied,  "  to  deliver  a  lecture  on  Poetry."  Then  he 
added,  after  a  moment,  "  That  marriage  may  never 
take  place."  His  friend,  Mr.  Pabodie,  in  describing 

1  Ingram,  ii.  194.  2  Ingram,  ii.  196. 


320  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

this  interview,  states  that  "  circumstances  existed 
which  threatened  to  postpone  the  marriage  indefi 
nitely,  if  not  altogether  to  prevent  it."  1  To  these, 
which  have  not  been  divulged,  Poe  presumably 
referred.  On  reaching  Providence  he  delivered  the 
lecture,  "  The  Poetic  Principle,"  the  same  evening, 
December  20,  to  a  large  audience.  He  remained  in 
the  city,  and  still  pleaded  with  Mrs.  Whitman  to  be 
married  and  to  return  with  him  to  Fordham.  He 
was  stopping  at  the  Earl  House,  and  there  occasion 
ally  drank  at  the  bar  with  some  young  men  of  the 
city.  On  Friday  evening,  December  22,  he  called 
at  Mrs.  Whitman's,  partially  intoxicated  ;  but, 
says  Mr.  Pabodie,  who  was  present,  he  was  quiet 
and  said  little.  The  next  morning  he  was  full  of 
contrition  and  profuse  of  promises  for  the  future, 
and  he  persuaded  Mrs.  Whitman  to  appoint  Mon 
day  evening  for  the  ceremony.  He  then  wrote 
to  Dr.  Crocker,  engaging  him  to  officiate,  and 
to  Mrs.  Clemm,  advising  her  to  expect  himself 
and  his  wife  on  Tuesday  at  Fordham.  In  the 
afternoon,  however,  Mrs.  Whitman  received  a 
note  from  a  friend,  informing  her  that  Poe  had 
that  morning  again  drunk  at  the  bar  of  his  hotel, 
and  she  therefore  finally  decided  to  break  off  the 
match.  When  Poe  called,  says  Mrs.  Whitman, 
"  no  token  of  the  infringement  of  his  promise 
was  visible  in  his  appearance  or  manner."  2  This 

1  Pabodie  to  Griswold,  June  11,  1852.     Gill,  224. 

2  Ingram,  ii.  1 84,  1 85. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  321 

circumstance,  however,  she  disregarded,  and  carried 
out  her  predetermined  plan.  "  Gathering  together 
some  papers,"  she  says,  "  which  he  had  intrusted 
to  my  keeping,  I  placed  them  in  his  hands  without 
a  word  of  explanation  or  reproach,  and,  utterly 
worn  out  and  exhausted  by  the  mental  conflicts  and 
anxieties  and  responsibilities  of  the  last  few  days, 
I  drenched  my  handkerchief  with  ether  and  threw 
myself  on  a  sofa,  hoping  to  lose  myself  in  utter  un 
consciousness.  Sinking  on  his  knees  beside  me,  he 
entreated  me  to  speak  to  him,  —  to  speak  one  word, 
but  one  word.  At  last  I  responded,  almost  inau- 
dibly,  '  What  can  I  say  ?  '  '  Say  that  you  love 
me,  Helen.'  ^  I  love  you?  These  were  the  last 
words  I  ever  spoke  to  him."  1  Mr.  Pabodie,  who 
had  accompanied  Poe  on  this  visit,  went  with  him 
to  the  train,  in  which  he  left  at  once  for  Fordham. 
About  three  weeks  later  he  addressed  a  last  letter 
to  Mrs.  Whitman,  in  respect  to  some  slanderous 
misrepresentations  of  his  conduct  in  this  affair,  which 
had  been  put  in  circulation ;  but  to  this,  which  he 
had  first  sent  unsealed  to  "Annie,"  Mrs.  Whitman 
made  no  reply,  except,  weeks  afterward,  indirectly 
by  some  "  Stanzas  for  Music,"  published  in  "  The 
Metropolitan  "  for  February,  and  now  included,  in 
a  revised  version,  in  her  "  Poems"  as  "  The  Island 
of  Dreams." 

This  episode  has  been  narrated  in  minute  detail 
because  gross  perversions  of  the  facts  were   once 

1  Ingram,  ii.  184,  185. 


322  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

common,  and  are  not  yet  entirely  suppressed  ;  and 
in  the  relation  it  has  not  been  possible  to  ignore,  as 
one  would  desire  to  do,  the  letters  written  by  Poe, 
during  this   period,  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  "Annie," 
and    her    sister.      If    Poe's    correspondence  "with 
other  women  —  with   Mrs.   Osgood,   for   example, 
who  terms  his  letters  "  divinely  beautiful "    —  bore 
any  resemblance  to  that  of  the  last  year  of  his  life, 
fortune  has  been   more  than  usually  kind  in  de 
stroying  it.    Not  one  word  from  these  letters  ought 
ever  to   have  been   published,  but   now  it   is  too 
late  to  exclude  them  from  the  record.     FromJ:his 
nd  other  evidence  it  is  plain  that  Poe,  worn  out 
>y  the  ruin  wrought  on  a  romantic  temperament 
)y  his  unavailing  struggle  with  poverty,  insane  in- 
ulgence,   and    secret    disease,  realizing    now   the 
lopelessness  of  his  situation  and  oppressed  by  its 
oneliness,  felt  himself  under  an  overpowering  ne- 
essity  of  receiving  human  help,  and  sought  "for  it 
with  an  ardor  undisciplined  by  years,  in  whatever 
uarter  there  was  any  promise.     He  had  made  up 
is  mind,  moreover,  to  adopt  Mrs.  Shew's  advice, 
and  to  try  to  save  himself  in  what  she  had  declared 
the  only  possible  way,  —  marriage.     A  trivial  inci 
dent  —  the  anonymous  exchange  of  a  copy  of  verses 
—  resulted  in  some  slight  relations  between  himself 
and  a  woman  whose  genius  he  had  idealized,  and 
he  at  once  threw  himself  on  her  mercy.    By  his  own 
declaration  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  hardly  more  than  a 
week  earlier  he  had  been  on  the  point  of  asking 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  323 

another  woman  to  be  his  wife.  Mrs.  Whitman 
herself,  notwithstanding  her  many  virtues  and  ad 
mirable  qualities  of  heart,  so  finely  exercised  in  her 
lifelong  devotion  to  Poe's  memory,  was  eccentric, 
susceptible  to  romantic  fancies  and  mystical  moods. 
She  was  in  particular  a  believer  in  occult  spiritual 
influences,  and  by  this  approach  to  her  weakness 
Poe  made  his  persuasive  appeal.  Both  in  his  let 
ters  to  her  and  in  the  recorded  fragments  of  their 
conversation,  he  rhapsodized  about  their  affinities, 
as  if  that  were  the  sure  chord  to  respond  to  his 
touch.  Poe  may  have  believed  in  what  he  pro 
fessed,  but  amid  all  his  transcendental  raptures,  as 
well  as  in  his  vindication  of  his  character  and  his 
absurd  anticipations  of  their  worldly  triumph,  as 
he  called  it,  although  his  helplessness  and  real  suf 
fering  are  plain  to  see,  it  is  futile  to  look  for  any 
unmistakable  expression  of  the  love  man  bears  to 
woman,  any  passage  that  rings  true  with  genuine 
.devotion  as  does  the  single  brief  note  written  to 
his  wife,  Virginia.  In  all  this  correspondence  there 
is  a  total. and  absolute  absorption  of  his  mind  in  his 
own  affairs, — his  injuries,  distresses,  and  hopes; 
indeed,  to  one  familiar  with  his  modes  of  expression, 
it  seems  almost  an  accident  that  these  letters  were 
addressed  to  -Mrs.  Whitman.  The  language,  con 
fidential  and  studded  with  terms  of  endearment, 
is  such  as  he  habitually  used  both  in  written  and 
spoken  words  to  other  women  who  he  thought  un 
derstood  him.  Clearly,  so  far  as  his  need  of  sym- 


324  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

pathy,  pity,  consolation,  was  concerned,  he  put  more 
trust  in  "  Annie's "  heart,  just  as  he  wrote  to 
her  with  more  freedom  and  besought  her  aid  with 
more  simplicity.  He  had  selected  Mrs.  Whitman 
as  the  object  of  his  marital  determination  out  of 
admiration  for  her  poems,  had  asked  her  hand  at 
the  first  interview,  and,  finding  himself  opposed  by 
private  defamation,  had  urged  his  suit  with  eager 
ness  and  force  ;  but  he  apparently  never  believed 
he  would  succeed,  and  in  this  fear  he  pressed  for 
a  conclusion.  In  fact  Poe  seems  less  absorbed  in 
a  woman  than  infatuated  with  an  idea,  —  an  idea 
which,  originating  in  fancy,  fostered  by  his  ideal 
izing  faculty,  made  practicable  by  accident,  and 
acted  on  from  impulse,  was  now  supported  by  the 
strongest  worldly  motives,  since  his  reputation,  am 
bition,  and  fortune  were  highly  interested  in  the 
issue. 

Besides  these  considerations,  it  must  be  remem 
bered  how  plain  and  frequent  in  both  Poe's  acts 
and  words  at  this  period  are  the  signs  of  a  mind 
unstrung.  To  give  but  one  additional  instance,  in 
judging  the  following  passage  to  Mrs.  Whitman, 
the  only  choice  lies  between  Poe's  insincerity  or  his 
practical  insanity :  — 

"  Was  I  right,  dearest  Helen,  in  my  first  impression  of 
you  ?  —  you  know  I  have  implicit  faith  in  first  impres 
sions  —  was  I  right  in  the  impression  that  you  are  am 
bitious  ?  If  so,  and  if  you  will  have  faith  in  me,  I  can 
and  will  satisfy  your  wildest  desires.  It  would  be  a 


THE  END  OF   THE  PLAY.  325 

glorious  triumph,  Helen,  for  us  —  for  you  and  me.  I 
dare  not  trust  my  schemes  to  a  letter  —  nor  indeed  have 
I  time  even  to  hint  at  them  here.  When  I  see  you  I 
will  explain  all  —  as  far,  at  least,  as  I  dare  explain  all 
my  hopes  even  to  you.  Would  it  not  be  '  glorious,'  dar 
ling,  to  establish  in  America,  the  sole  unquestionable 
aristocracy  —  that  of  intellect  —  to  secure  its  supremacy 
—  to  lead  and  to  control  it  ?  All  this  I  can  do,  Helen, 
and  will  —  if  you  bid  me  —  and  aid  me."  1 

This,  in  the  case  of  a  man  of  Poe's  years  and 
powers,  is  either  chicanery  or  irresponsible  maun 
dering.  Pie  merely  let  his  pen  run,  as  in  nearly  all 
these  letters,  which,  to  characterize  them  plainly, 
record  the  confusion  and  weakness  of  a  mind  aban 
doned  to  an  emotional  mood,  and  occupied  only  by 
self-pity,  intellectual  pride,  or  despair.  That  he 
has  been  thus  revealed  to  the  world  in  his  weakest 
moments  and  most  wretched  abasement  is  the  fault 
of  his  friends  ;  but  keeping  in  view  his  state  of 
mind  and  body,  the  origin  and  course  of  his  woo 
ing,  and  the  surrounding  circumstances,  one  finds 
it  least  difficult  to  believe  that  if  Poe  was  sincere 
in  his  professions  he  was  self-deceived,  and  to  agree 
with  Mrs.  Osgood,  who,  having  herself  been  the  ob 
ject  of  similar  sentiments  from  him,  declared  of  his 
dead  wife,  "  I  believe  she  was  the  only  woman 
whom  he  ever  truly  loved."  2 

1  Poe  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  November  22,  1848.     Ingram,  ii.  180, 
181. 

2  Griswold,  liii. 


326  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

On  reaching  Fordham  Poe  found  Mrs.  Clemn, 
who  had  never  favored  the  match,  overjoyed  to  see 
him  unaccompanied  by  a  wife,  and,  were  it  possi 
ble,  more  devoted  to  himself.  He  set  to  work,  and 
wrote  several  hours  each  day  ;  but,  in  consonance 
with  the  view  that  has  been  taken,  although  doubt 
less  bitterly  aggrieved,  lie  exhibited  no  regret  at  the 
event  which  he  had  always  considered  likely,  and 
no  fidelity  to  the  woman  whose  loyalty  to  his  mem 
ory  in  after  years  was  almost  ideal.  On  January 
11,  1849,  he  wrote  to  "Annie"  as  follows:  — 

"  In  spite  of  so  many  worldly  sorrows  —  in  spite  of  all 
the  trouble  and  misrepresentation  (so  hard  to  bear)  that 
Poverty  has  entailed  on  me  for  so  long  a  time  —  in  spite 
of  all  this  —  I  am  so,  so  happy.  .  .  .  I  need  not  tell  you 
how  great  a  burden  is  taken  off  my  heart  by  my  rupture 
with  Mrs.  W.  ;  for  I  have  fully  made  up  my  mind  to 
break  the  engagement.  .  .  .  Nothing  would  have  de 
terred  me  from  the  match  but  —  what  I  tell  you."  3 

Two  weeks  later  he  inclosed  to  the  same  corre 
spondent  a  last  letter  to  Mrs.  Whitman,  in  which, 
after  referring  to  the  evil  reports  of  him  origina 
ting  at  Providence,  he  declared,  "  No  amount  of 
provocation  shall  induce  me  to  speak  ill  of  you 
[Mrs.  Whitman],  even  in  my  own  defense,"2  — 
with  directions  to  read  it,  seal  it  with  wax,  and  mail 
it  in  Boston ;  and  to  this  singularly  indelicate  act, 
which  is  excused  only  by  the  circumstance  that 

1  Ingram,  ii.  202.  2  Ingram,  ii.  185. 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  327 

"Annie's"  confidence  in  him  had  been  shaken  by 
these  same  slanders,  he  added  the  dishonor  of  a 
hasty  expression  of  his  pique  in  words  too  violently 
in  contrast  with  the  line  just  quoted  to  escape  no 
tice. 

"  Of  one  thing  rest  assured,  from  this  day  forth  I  shun 
the  pestilential  society  of  literary  women.  They  are  a 
heartless,  unnatural,  venomous,  dishonorable  set,  with  no 
guiding  principle  but  inordinate  self-esteem.  Mrs.  Os- 
good  is  the  only  exception  I  know."  * 

Having  thus  freed  himself  of  the  affair,  —  for  it 
is  said  that  Mrs.  Whitman's  name  never  afterwards 
passed  his  lips,  —  Poe  busied  himself  with  litera 
ture,  which,  he  wrote  to  Thomas,  there  was  no  se 
ducing  him  from ;  and  he  adds,  "  Nor  would  I 
abandon  the  hopes  that  still  lead  me  on  for  all  the 
jgolcl  in  California."  2  In  the  "  Southern  Literary 
Messenger  "  for  February  he  published  an  unfavor 
able  review  of  Lowell's  "A  Fable  for  Critics,"  and 
in  "  Godey's "  j)f  the  same  month  "  Mellonta 
Tauta,"  a  revision  o'f  the  introduction  to  "  Eureka." 
He  sent,  but  fruitlessly,  "  Landor's  Cottage  "  to 
the  "  Metropolitan,"  whose  short  career  was  distin 
guished  by  some  lines  addressed  to  him  by  Mrs. 
Osgood,  and  also  by  Mrs.  Whitman  in  indirect  ac 
knowledgment  of  his  last  letter  ;  and  with  like  ill 
success  fifty  pages  of  "  Marginalia  "  (possibly  the 
editor  had  discovered  their  second-hand  character) 

1  Ingram,  ii.  205. 

2  Poe  to  Thomas,  February  14,  1849.     MS.  copy. 


328  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

to  the  "  Messenger,"  and  "  Critics  and  Criticism  " 
to  the  "  Whig."  Poe  was  elated  with  his  imme 
diate  prospects ;  and  he  had  good  reason,  if  there 
was  no  exaggeration  in  his  statement  that  he  had 
made  permanent  engagements  with  every  magazine 
in  America  (except  Peterson's  "National"),  in 
cluding  a  Cincinnati  magazine  called  the  "  Gentle 
men's,"  at  a  minimum  price  of  five  dollars  per  Gra 
ham  page.  Ou-^ebruary  6  he  finished  "The  Bells," 
presumably  the  second  draft,  and  the  next  day 
"Hop-Frog,"  a  tale  of  grotesque  humor  out  of  Ber- 
ner's  Froissart,  published  in  April  in  the  "  Flag  of 
our  Union,"  a  Boston  weekly.  His  only  other  pub 
lications  that  have  been  traced  were  the  ghoulish 
lines  "  To  Annie  "  (reprinted  by  Willis)  and  the 
sonnet  "  To  my  Mother,"  both  in  the  same  cheap 
Boston  weekly,  and,  as  it  would  seem,  in  April ; 
and  lastly,  in  "Sartain's  Magazine"  for  March,  "A 
Valentine,"  the  anagrammatic  poem  to  Mrs.  Os- 
good.  Perhaps  "  El  Dorado,"  the  only  poem  of 
which  the  first  publication  is  unknown,  belongs  to 
this  same  period. 

These  various  writings  probably  represent  Poe's 
literary  activity  for  some  time  before  this  spring, 
and  this  is  certainly  the  case  with  the  only  noticea 
ble  pieces  among  them,  "  The  Domain  of  Arnheim" 
and  "  Landor's  Cottage,"  called  its  pendant.  The 
latter  closed  the  series  of  the  landscape  studies, 
which  make  as  distinct  a  group  in  Poe's  imaginative 
work  as  the  tales  of  mystery,  ratiocination,  or  con- 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  329 

science,  since  in  these  the  sensuous  element,  which 
was  primary  in  his  genius,  found  its  simplest  and 
most  unrestrained  expression.  The  series  had  cul 
minated,  however,  in  "  The  Domain  of  Arnheim," 
in  which  the  brilliancy  and  flood  and  glow  of  pure 
color  are  a  mere  reveling  of  the  aesthetic  sense ;  and 
so  gorgeous  is  the  vision  and  thrown  out  in  so  broad 
an  expanse  that,  although  only  a  description,  the 
piece  is  as  unique  among  works  of  imagination  as 
is  "  The  Black  Cat  "  or  "  The  Fall  of  the  House  of 
Usher."  The  landscape  that  the  mention  of  the 
latter  recalls,  and  much  more  the  spectral  wood 
land  and  tarn  of  "  Ulalume,"  serve  to  measure  by 
momentary  contrast  with  the  scenes  of  faery  in 
"  Arnheim  "  the  range  of  Poe's  fantasy,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  bring  out  strongly  the  extent  to  which 
his  work  is  dependent  for  its  effect  directly  on  the 
senses,  however  abnormally  excited.  In  fact  the 
impression  made  in  the  present  case  is  solely  spec 
tacular.  The  landscape  sketches,  too,  which  belong 
to  the  dark  period  of  Poe's  career,  afford  some 
pleasant  relief  to  the  paltrinesses,  the  miseries,  and 
debasements  of  his  ordinary  life.  The  idyllic  sweet 
ness  of  "  Eleonora,"  the  quiet  beauty  of  "  The  Isl 
and  of  the  Fay  "  and  "  Morning  on  the  Wissahic- 
con,"  opened  round  Poe,  as  he  was  seen  in  his 
Philadelphia  days,  the  only  prospect  beyond  the 
mean  walls  of  the  newspaper  office  and  the  tenement 
house.  Now  in  his  yet  more  wretched  years  he 
was  not  deprived  of  his  poet's  birthright  in  the  in- 


330  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

heritance  of  nature  ;  rather,  as  in  this  mythical 
"  Arnheim,"  he  indulged  most  purely  his  delight  in 
the  contemplation  of  loveliness  for  its  own  sake  ; 
and  as  he  imagined  the  charming  cottage  of  Landor 
just  at  the  time  when  his  letters  exhibit  him  in  his 
lowest  spirits,  it  would  seem  that  his  country  ram 
bles  still  gave  him  an  outlook  on  the  things  of 
beauty,  of  light  and  calm  and  joy.  No  life  can 
continue  in  darkness  and  turmoil  such  as  these  past 
months  would  have  been,  had  they  been  filled  only 
with  the  incidents  and  passions  of  the  written  story. 
Of  the  bursts  of  sunshine  and  pauses  of  calm  that 
checkered  this  portion  of  Poe's  days,  of  the  after 
noons  and  frequent  nights  of  summer  whose  beauty 
he  drank  in  with  senses  dulled  only  by  the  lotus- 
flower,  these  landscape  studies  are  the  open  secret. 
While  Poe  was  thus  engaged  a  second  female  foe 
had  arisen  in  the  home  of  his  Lowell  friends  in  the 
person  of  a  woman  who  had  helped  to  relieve  his 
necessities  in  1847.  She  busied  herself  so  suc 
cessfully  with  disseminating  the  current  slanders 
respecting  him  as  to  disturb  the  minds  of  the  fam 
ily,  and  to  alienate,  at  least  partially,  the  good 
will  of  the  head  of  the  house.  Poe,  on  being  in 
formed  of  this  new  misfortune,  accounted  for  the 
gossip's  hostility  by  saying  that  he  had  left  her 
abruptly  in  consequence  of  her  disparagement  of 
"  Annie,"  and  added  that  he  thought  it  hard  that 
such  a  quarrel  should  prejudice  him  in  the  lat- 
ter's  mind.  He  was  so  far  moved  by  the  attitude 


THE  END   OF   THE  PLAY.  331 

assumed  by  her  husband  that  he  gave  up  a  pro 
posed  visit  to  his  house  and  the  plan  of  settling 
near  these  new  friends  permanently,  and  he  even 
professed  to  think  it  necessary  that  the  correspon 
dence  should  cease.  He  wrote,  "  I  cannot  and  will 
not  have  it  on  my  conscience  that  I  have  interfered 
with  the  domestic  happiness  of  the  only  being  in 
the  whole  world,  whom  I  have  loved  at  the  same 
time  with  truth  and  with  purity."  * 

Such  an  abrupt  termination  to  one  of  the  happiest 
friendships  of  his  life  was  fortunately  avoided.  Poe 
was  able  to  sustain  his  story,  and  after  a  few  weeks 
the  tale  bearer,  whose  connection  with  his  family 
seems  to  have  been  unbroken,  wrote  to  him  that  she 
was  about  to  publish  a  novel  recording  their  relations 
in  detail  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  his  own  character 
appear  noble  and  generous,  and  that  she  would  come 
on  to  Fordham  at  once  to  avail  herself  of  any  sug 
gestions  from  him.  What  became  of  this  novel,  or 
what  reception  the  lady's  proposals  met  with,  is  un 
known  ;  but  as  in  the  sequel,  even  after  Poe's  death, 
she  still  busied  herself  in  scandal,  it  is  likely  that 
there  was  no  reconciliation. 

In  literary  matters  the  spring  had  brought 
disappointment.  The  "  Columbia "  and  "Union" 
failed  ;  the  ."  Whig  "  and  "  Democratic  "  stopped 
payment ;  the  "  Messenger,"  which  was  in  Poe's 
debt,  remained  in  arrears ;  another  publication, 
with  which  he  had  engaged  for  ten  dollars  weekly, 
1  Poe  to  "  Annie,"  February  19,  1849.  Ingram,  ii.  208. 


332  EDGAE  ALLAN  POE. 

was  forced  to  decline  contributions ;  with  "  Godey's  " 
he  had  quarreled :  and  so,  in  his  own  words,  he  was 
"  reduced  to  '  Sartain  '  and  '  Graham,'  both  very 
precarious."  His  many  engagements,  on  which  he 
had  built  so  hopefully  a  few  months  before,  had 
dwindled  away ;  and  to  add  to  his  misfortunes  he 
had  again  been  seriously  ill.  "  I  thought,"  wrote 
Mrs.  Clemm  to  "Annie,"  "he  would  die  several 
times.  God  knows  I  wish  we  were  both  in  our 
graves.  It  would,  I  am  sure,  be  far  better."1 
A  deep  gloom  settled  over  his  mind.  He  himself 
wrote  to  the  same  lady,  in  denying  that  this  arose 
from  his  literary  disappointments,  —  "  My  sadness 
is  unaccountable,  and  this  makes  me  the  more  sad. 
I  am  full  of  dark  forebodings.  Nothing  cheers  or 
comforts  me.  My  life  seems  wasted  —  the  future 
looks  a  dreary  blank ;  but  I  will  struggle  on  and 
'  hope  against  hope.' "  2  After  this  he  visited  his 
friends  at  Lowell,  apparently  in[Lj^ay.  and  there 
wrote  the  third  draft  of  "  The  Bells ;  "  he  soon  re 
turned  to  New  York,  with  the  expectation  of  going 

the  old  scheme,  — *- 

the  establishment  of  the  "  Stylus, "  for  "Winch  he  was 
now  arranging  a  partnership  with  a  Mr.  Patterson, 
in  accordance  with  which  it  would  be  published  si 
multaneously  in  New  York  and  St.  Louis  on  Janu 
ary  1,  I860.  He  was  delayed  for  some  weeks,  dur 
ing  which  his  despondency  was  marked  and  habit 
ual.  Before  leaving  Fordham,  apparently  led  by 

1  Ingram,  ii.  215.  2  Ingram,  ii.  214. 


THE  END   OF    THE  PLAY.  333 

the  palpable  signs  of  his  danger,  he  wrote  requests 
that  Griswold  would  superintend  the  collection  of 
his  works,  and  that  Willis  would  write  such  a  bio 
graphical  notice  as  should  be  deemed  necessary. 
On  June  29,  having  completed  his  arrangements 
for  his  journey,  he  went  to  New  York  in  company 
with  Mrs.  Clemm,  to  pass  the  night  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Lewis,  the  poetess,  whose  works  he  had  lately 
reviewed,  and  with  whom  during  the  past  year 
an  intimacy  of  the  old  kind  had  sprung  up.  "  He 
seemed  very  sad,"  wrote  this  lady,  "  and  retired 
early.  On  leaving  the  next  morning  he  took  my 
hand  in  his,  and,  looking  in  my  face,  said,  '  Dear 
Stella,  my  much  beloved  friend.  You  truly  under 
stand  and  appreciate  me  —  I  have  a  presentiment 
that  I  shall  never  see  you  again.  I  must  leave  to 
day  for  Richmond.  If  I  never  return,  write  my 
life.  You  can  and  will  do  me  justice.'  " 1  Mrs. 
Clemm  accompanied  him  to  the  steamboat,  and  on 
parting  he  said  to  her,  "  God  bless  you,  my  own 
darling  mother.  Do  not  fear  for  Eddy !  See  how 
good  I  will  be  while  I  am  away  from  you,  and  will 
[sic]  come  back  to  love  and  comfort  you."  2 

Poe  stopped  at  Philadelphia,  where  he  suffered 
a  severe  attack  of  delirium  tremens,  during  which 
he  was  taken  care  of  by  Mr.  John  Sartain,  the 
proprietor  of  Sartain' s  Magazine,  who  still  remem 
bers  the  visions  about  which  he  raved  and  the  per 
sistence  with  which  he  besought  him  for  laudanum, 
i  Ingram,  ii.  220.  2  Ingram,  ii.  221. 


334  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

PII  recovering  he  proceeded  to  Bichmond  and  there 
/remained  through  July,  August,  and  September, 
/delivered  his  lecture  on  "The  Poetic  Principle,"  in 
j  Richmond  and  Norfolk,  canvassed  for  the  "  Stylus," 
/  and  enjoyed  the  society  of  his  old  and  new  friends. 
I  He  stayed  at  the  Madison  Tavern,  a  once  fashion- 
•  able  but  then  decayed  hotel,  and  he  visited  much 
among  his  acquaintances,  by  whom  he  was  well 
received,  and,  indeed,  lionized.  At  Duncan's  Lodge, 
especially,  the  residence  of  the  Mackenzies,  who 
had  adopted  his  sister  Rosalie,  he  was  made  at 
home ;  and  at  Robert  Sully 's,  the  artist  whom  he 
had  befriended  in  his  early  schooldays,  and  at  Mrs. 
Talley's,  he  passed  many  of  those  hours  which  he 
said  were  the  happiest  he  had  known  for  years. 
To  Miss  Susan  Archer  Talley,  now  Mrs.  Weiss, 
who  then  looked  on  Poe  with  the  romantic  interest 
of  a  young  poetess  as  well  as  with  a  woman's  sym 
pathy  with  sadness  so  confessed  as  his,  is  due  the 
most  life-like  and  detailed  portrait  of  him  that 
exists.  Erect  in  stature,  cold,  impassive,  almost 
haughty  in  manner,  soberly  and  fastidiously  clad  in 
black,  to  a  stranger's  eye  he  wore  a  look  of  distinc 
tion  rather  than  beauty ;  on  nearer  approach  one 
was  more  struck  by  the  strongly  marked  head,  with 
the  broad  brow,  the  black  curly  hair  brushed  back, 
the  pallid,  careworn,  and  in  repose  the  somewhat 
haggard  features,  while  beneath  the  concealment  of 
a  short  black  moustache  one  saw  the  slight  habitual 
contraction  of  the  mouth  and  occasionally  the  quick, 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  335 

almost  imperceptible  curl  of  the  upper  lip  in  scorn 
—  a  sneer,  it  is  said,  that  was  easily  excited  ;  but 
the  physical  fascination  of  the  man  was  felt,  at  last, 
to  lie  in  his  eyes,  large,  jet-black,  with  a  steel-gray 
iris,  clear  as  crystal,  restless,  ever  expanding  and 
contracting  as,  responsive  with  intelligence  and  emo 
tion,  they  bent  their  full,  open,  steady,  unshrinking 
gaze  from  under  the  long  black  lashes  that  shaded 
them.  On  meeting  his  friends  Poe's  face  would 
brighten  with  pleasure,  his  features  lost  the  worn 
look  and  his  reserve  its  coldness ;  to  men  he  was 
cordial,  to  women  he  showed  a  deference  that  seems 
always  to  have  suggested  a  reminiscence  of  chivalry ; 
and  in  society  with  the  young  he  forgot  his  melan 
choly,  listened  with  amusement,  or  joined  in  their 
repartees  with  evident  pleasure,  though  he  would 
soon  leave  them  for  a  seat  in  the  portico,  or  a  walk 
in  the  grounds  with  a  single  friend.  To  the  eyes  of 
his  young  girlish  friend  he  seemed  invariably  cheer 
ful,  and  often  even  playful  in  mood.  Once  only 
was  he  noticeably  cast  down ;  it  was  when  visiting 
the  old  deserted  Mayo  place,  called  The  Hermitage, 
where  he  used  to  go  frequently  in  his  youth,  and 
the  scene  was  so  picturesque  that  it  is  worth  giving 
at  length  :  — 

"  On  reaching  the  place  our  party  separated,  and  Poe 
and  myself  strolled  slowly  about  the  grounds.  I  observed 
that  he  was  unusually  silent  and  preoccupied,  and,  at 
tributing  it  to  the  influence  of  memories  associated  with 
the  place,  forbore  to  interrupt  him.  He  passed  slowly 


336  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

by  the  mossy  bench  called  the  '  lovers'  seat,'  beneath 
two  aged  trees,  and  remarked,  as  we  turned  toward  the 
garden,  *  There  used  to  be  white  violets  here.'  Searching 
amid  the  tangled  wilderness  of  shrubs,  we  found  a  few 
late  blossoms,  some  of  which  he  placed  carefully  between 
the  leaves  of  a  note-book.  Entering  the  deserted  house, 
he  passed  from  room  to  room  with  a  grave,  abstracted 
look,  and  removed  his  hat,  as  if  involuntarily,  on  enter 
ing  the  saloon,  where  in  old  times  many  a  brilliant 
company  had  assembled.  Seated  in  one  of  the  deep 
windows,  over  which  now  grew  masses  of  ivy,  his  memory 
must  have  borne  him  back  to  former  scenes,  for  he 
repeated  the  familiar  lines  of  Moore  :  — 

'  I  feel  like  one 

Who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet  hall  deserted/ 

and  paused,  with  the  first  expression  of  real  sadness  that 
I  had  ever  seen  on  his  face.  The  light  of  the  setting  sun 
shone  through  the  drooping  ivy-boughs  into  the  ghostly 
room,  and  the  tattered  and  mildewed  paper-hangings, 
with  their  faded  tracery  of  rose-garlands,  waved  fitfully 
in  the  autumn  breeze.  An  inexpressibly  eerie  feeling 
came  over  me,  which  I  can  even  now  recall,  and  as  I 
stood  there,  my  old  childish  idea  of  the  poet  as  a  spirit  of 
mingled  light  and  darkness  recurred  strongly  to  my  im 
agination."  1 

Poe  talked  with  his  young  friend  about  his  plans 
and  hopes  ;  about  the  restrictions  on  criticism  which 
are  imposed  by  personal  friendship  and  editorial  pre 
possessions,  and  from  which  even  he  could  not  wholly 

1  Scribner's  Magazine,  xv.  5,  p.  712  (March,  1878). 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  337 

free  himself ;  about  his  New  York  friends,  the  mis 
constructions  his  nature  suffered  under  even  among 
those  who  knew  him,  and  other  confidential  topics 
that  the  charm  of  his  listener  and  his  own  readiness 
to  indulge  in  quick  intimacies,  beguiled  him  into. 
In  particular  it  should  be  noticed  that  he  showed 
her  a  letter  from  Griswold,  accepting  his  commis 
sion  to  edit  his  works  in  case  of  his  sudden  death. 

These  reminiscences  of  quiet  mornings  in  the 
grounds  of  Duncan's  Lodge  and  of  social  evenings 
at  the  houses  of  various  friends  do  not  contain  the 
whole  story  of  this  summer.  Twice  during  this 
visit,  it  is  said,  Poe  again  suffered  severe  illness  in 
consequence  of  intemperance,  and  though  he  recov 
ered  under  kind  and  skillful  care,  he  was  told  by  his 
physician,  Dr.  Carter,  that  another  such  indulgence 
would  probably  prove  fatal ;  and  in  the  course  of  a 
long  conversation  in  which  Poe  was  moved  to  tears 
he  convinced  this  gentleman  of  his  earnest  desire  to 
overcome  his  temptations  and  of  his  unavailing 
struggle  against  them,  though  he  had  still,  it  seems, 
courage  to  keep  up  hope  for  the  last  trial. 

During  these  months,  too,  he  renewed  his  atten 
tions  to  Mrs.  Shelton  and  asked  her  hand  in  mar 
riage.  There  is  no  room  to  doubt  that  in  this  act 
he  obeyed  worldly  motives ;  for  though  there  had 
been  romantic  passages  between  them  in  schooldays, 
there  is  no  likelihood  that  these  would  have  pre 
vailed  on  Poe  to  unite  himself  with  a  woman  who  is 
described  as  of  plain  manners,  older  than  himself, 
22 


338  EDGAR  ALLAN   POE. 

and  with  no  attraction  except  wealth.  It  cannot 
have  escaped  attention  that  Poe  uniformly  attrib 
uted  his  ill-success  in  the  world  solely  to  his  pov 
erty  ;  in  later  years  especially  this  had  become  so 
settled  a  conviction  in  his  mind  that  in  his  letters 
to  "  Annie,"  "  I  must  get  rich,  get  rich,"  is  a  re 
frain  so  constant  as  to  seem  the  purpose  he  had 
most  at  heart ;  he  needed  money  to  secure  his 
shattered  health  against  the  necessities  of  hard  labor 
for  a  support  precarious  at  best,  and  especially  to 
establish  the  "  Stylus,"  the  scheme  he  pursued  as 
a  phantom.  Mrs.  Clemm  believed  that  his  motive 
was  to  provide  a  home  and  friends  for  herself.  To 
her  Mrs.  Whitman  wrote,  "I  think  I  can  under 
stand  all  the  motives  that  influenced  Edgar  in  those 
last  days  and  can  see  how  the  desire  to  provide 
a  home  and  friends  for  you,  swayed  him  in  all" ' 
His  engagement  to  Mrs.  Shelton  was  commonly 
talked  of,  and  is  said  to  have  been  mentioned  in  the 
papers,  greatly  to  his  displeasure ;  and  although 
Mrs.  Shelton  has  denied  that  a  formal  agreement 
existed,  and  acknowledges  only  a  partial  understand 
ing,  she  began  a  correspondence  with  Mrs.  Clemm 
the  first  letter  2  of  whicli  is  not  to  be  explained  on 
any  other  theory  than  that  she  meant  to  marry  Poe. 
The  most  authentic  indication  of  the  actual  state  of 
affairs  is  Poe's  letter  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  September 

1  Mrs.  Whitman  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  April  17,  1859.     MS. 

2  This  letter,  of  which  the  author  has  a  copy,  is  too  private  for 
publication. 


THE  END   OF   THE  PLAY.  339 

18,  1849,  in  which,  it  will  be  noticed,  his  peculiar 
secretiveness  is  markedly  illustrated  by  his  directing 
her  to  address  him  under  a  fictitious  name  in  Phila 
delphia. 

[RICHMOND,  VA. 
TUESDAY,  September  18,  '49. 
MY  OWN  DARLING  MUDDY, 

On  arriving  here  last  night  from  Norfolk  I  received 
both  your  letters,  including  Mrs.  Lewis's.  I  cannot  tell 
you  the  joy  they  gave  me  to  learn  at  least  that  you  are 
well  and  hopeful.  May  God  forever  bless  you,  my  dear 
dear  Muddy.  —  Elmira  has  just  got  home  from  the 
country.  I  spent  last  evening  with  her.  I  think  she 
loves  me  more  devotedly  than  any  one  I  ever  knew  and 
I  cannot  help  loving  her  in  return.  Nothing  is  as  yet 
definitely  settled  — -]  and  it  will  not  do  to  hurry  matters. 
I  lectured  at  Norfolk  on  Monday  and  cleared  enough 
to  settle  my  bill  here  at  the  Madison  House  with  $2 
over.  I  had  a  highly  fashionable  audience,  but  Norfolk 
is  a  small  place  and  there  were  two  exhibitions  the  same 
night.  Next  Monday  I  lecture  again  here  and  expect 
to  have  a  large  audience.  On  Tuesday  I  start  for  Phila 
delphia  to  attend  to  Mrs.  Loud's  poems  —  and  possibly 
on  Thursday  I  may  start  for  New  York.  If  p  do  I  will 
go  straight  over  to  Mrs.  Lewis's  and  send  for  you.  It 
will  be  better  for  me  not  to  go  to  Fordham  —  don't 
you  think  so  ?  Write  immediately  in  reply  and  direct 
to  Philadelphia.  For  fear  I  should  not  get  the  letter 
sign  no  name  and  address  it  to  E.  S.  T.  Grey  Esqre. 
If  possible  I  will  get  married  before  I  start,  but  there 
is  no  telling.  Give  my  dearest  love  to  Mrs.  L.  My 
poor  poor  Muddy  I  am  still  unable  to  send  you  even  one 


340  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

dollar,  —  but  keep  [up  heart  —  I  hope  that  our  troubles 
are  nearly  over.     I  saw  John  Beatty  in  Norfolk. 

God  bless  and  protect  you,  my  own  darling  Muddy. 
I  showed  your  letter  to  Elmira,  and  she  says  "it  is  such 
a  darling  precious  letter  that  she  loves  you  for  it  already." 

Your  own  Eddy. 

Don't  forget  to  write  immediately  to  Philadelphia  so 
that  your  letter  will  be  there  when  I  arrive. 

The  papers  here  are  praising  me  to  death  —  and  I  have 
been  received  everywhere  with  enthusiasm.  Be  sure  and 
preserve  all  the  printed  scraps  I  have]  sent  you  and  keep 
up  my  file  of  the  Literary  World.1 

It  has  been  stated  that  a  disagreement  arose  be 
tween  Poe  and  Mrs.  Shelton  in  consequence  of  her 
expressed  intention  of  keeping  control  of  her  prop 
erty,  and  that  he  refused  to  give  up  her  letters  to 
him  unless  she  would  first  surrender  his ;  and  this 
circumstance  is  alleged  to  be  the  basis  of  the  scan 
dalous  story  still  circulated  respecting  Poe's  levy 
ing  blackmail  on  a  woman  and  being  beaten  by 
her  brother.  Of  the  truth  of  this  at  any  time  in  his 
life,  there  is  no  indication.  Neither  is  there  any 
evidence  that  any  difference  arose  between  the  two 
at  all.  Poe  is  said  to  have  himself  written  to  Mrs. 
Clemm  that  the  ceremony  was  fixed  for  October 
-...17^  On  any  other  supposition  than  that  a  practi 
cal  engagement  still  existed,  it  is  inexplicable  that 
after  Poe's  death  Mrs.  Shelton  should  have  gone 

1  Poe  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  MS. ;  where  bracketed,  MS.  copy. 

2  Diclier,  110. 


THE  END  OF  THE  PLAY.  341 

into  mourning,  as  she  did,  or  have  written  a  letter 
of  condolence  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  with  whom  she  had 
no  acquaintance,  of  such  a  character  that  the  latter 
should  have  written  to  "  Annie  "  regarding  it,  "I 
have  received  a  letter  from  poor  Elmira ;  oh,  how 
you  will  pity  her  when  you  read  it !  "  l  Moreover, 
Poe's  statement  to  his  mother-in-law  agrees  with 
his  promise  to  his  friends  at  Richmond  that  he 
would  return  within  two  weeks,  and  with  his  ex 
pressed  intention  to  reside  thereafter  in  that  city, 
although  this  would  necessarily  involve  the  aban 
donment  of  his  plan  in  respect  to  the  "  Stylus," 
which  his  present  partner  in  the  enterprise,  Mr. 
E.  H.  N.  Patterson,  in  a  letter  dated  August  21, 
proposed  to  issue,  according  to  the  plan,  simultane 
ously  in  New  York  and  St.  Louis,  on  July  1, 
1850. 

In  order  to  wind  up  his  affairs  in  New  York  and 
to  bring  Mrs.  Clemm  to  Richmond,  as  prelimina 
ries  of  this  marriage,  Poe  decided  to  go  North. 
On  the  day  before  leaving,  probably  Saturday,  Sep 
tember  29,  he  passed  the  evening  at  Mrs.  Talley's, 
where  he  had  a  long  conversation  with  her  daugh 
ter,  in  which  he  spoke  of  his  future,  "  seeming  to 
anticipate  it  with  eager  delight,  like  that  of  youth," 
and,  Mrs.  Weiss  adds,  "  he  declared  that  the  last 
few  weeks  in  the  society  of  his  old  and  new  friends 
had  been  the  happiest  that  he  had  known  for  many 
years,  and  that  when  he  again  left  New  York  he 

1  Mrs.  Clemm  to  "Annie,"  October  17,  1849.     Ingram,  ii.  241. 


342  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

should  there  leave  behind  all  the  trouble  and  vexa 
tion  of  his  past  life."  1  That  night  he  spent  with 
his  friends  at  Duncan's  Lodge,  and  sat  late  at  his 
window,  smoking  and  silent.  The  next  day  he 
passed  in  the  city  with  some  male  friends,  and  late 
in  the  evening  left  Dr.  Carter's  office  to  take  sup 
per  across  the  street,  at  Sadler's  restaurant.  There 
he  met  some  acquaintances,  who  kept  company 
with  him  until  very  late  and  then  accompanied 
him  to  the  boat,  where  they  left  him  sober  and 
cheerful.  If,  as  seems  probable,  this  was  on  Sun 
day  night,  he  would  have  arrived  in  Baltimore  late 
on  Monday  or  early  Tuesday.  All  that  is  known 
of  his  movements  is  that  he  called  at  Dr.  N.  C. 
Brooks's  on  an  afternoon,  partially  intoxicated,  and, 
not  finding  his  friend,  went  away.  It  is  reported, 
too,  that  he  took  the  train  to  Philadelphia,  but, 
being  in  the  wrong  car,  was  brought  back  from 
Havre  de  Grace  in  a  state  of  stupor.  On  what 
foundation  this  story  rests  cannot  now  be  deter 
mined.  It  is  also  said  that  he  dined  with  some  old 
military  friends,  became  intoxicated,  and  while  in 
that  state  was  captured  by  politicians,  who  kept 
him  stupefied,  and  made  him  vote  at  several  places 
on  Wednesday,  election  day.  The  basis  of  this  tra 
dition,  too,  is  now  lost.  The  only  certain  event  after 
his  call  on  Brooks,  which,  according  to  the  hypoth 
esis  here  made,  was  on  Tuesday,  is  that  on  Wednes 
day,  at  some  time  after  noon,  he  was  recognized  at 
1  Scribner's  Magazine,  xv.  5,  p.  713  (March,  1878). 


THE  END    OF   THE  PLAY.  343 

one  of  the  rum-shops  used  for  voting,  Kyan's  Fourth 
"Ward  Polls,  by  a  printer,  who  wrote  the  following 
note :  — 

BALTIMORE  CITY,  Oct.  3,  1849. 

There  is  a  gentleman,  rather  the  worse  for  wear,  at 
Ryan's  Fourth  Ward  Polls,  who  goes  under  the  cogno 
men  of  Edgar  A.  Poe,  and  who  appears  in  great  distress. 
He  says  he  is  acquainted  with  you,  and  I  assure  you  he 
is  in  need  of  immediate  assistance. 

JOSEPH  W.  WILSON. 

To  DR.  J.  E.  SNODGRASS.1 

Dr.  Snodgrass  called  at  Ryan's  and  had  Poe 
taken  to  the  Washington  Hospital,  where  he  was. 
admitted,  unconscious,  at  5  p.  M.  ;  his  relatives  in 
the  city  were  notified  of  his  condition,  and  gave 
him  such  attention  as  was  possible.  He  remained, 
except  for  a  brief  interval,  in  an  alarming  delirium, 
and  on  Sunday,  about  five  o'clock,  he  died.  The 
story  of  these  last  days,  the  catastrophe  of  "  the 
motley  drama,"  taken  from  contemporary  docu 
ments,  is  as  follows  :  — 

BALTIMORE  CITY  MARINE  HOSPITAL, 
November  15,  '49. 

MRS.  CLEMM, 

MY  DEAR  MADAM, 

I  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  respond 
ing  to  yours  of  the  9th  inst.,  which  came  to  hand  by 
yesterday's  mail. 

1  N.  Y.  Herald,  March  27,  1881. 


344  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

But  now  for  the  required  intelligence.  Presuming 
you  are  already  aware  of  the  malady  of  which  Mr.  Poe 
died,  I  need  only  state  concisely  the  particulars  of  his 
circumstances  from  his  entrance  until  his  decease. 

When  brought  to  the  Hospital  he  was  unconscious  of 
his  condition  —  who  brought  him  or  with  whom  he  had 
been  associating.  He  remained  in  this  condition  from 
five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  —  the  hour  of  his  admis 
sion  —  until  three  next  morning.  This  was  on  the  3d 
October. 

To  this  state  succeeded  tremor  of  the  limbs,  and  at 
first  a  busy  but  not  violent  or  active  delirium  —  constant 
talking — and  vacant  converse  with  spectral  and  imag 
inary  objects  on  the  walls.  His  face  was  pale  and  his 
whole  person  drenched  in  perspiration.  We  were  una 
ble  to  induce  tranquillity  before  the  second  day  after  his 
admission. 

Having  left  orders  with  the  nurses  to  that  effect,  I 
was  summoned  to  his  bedside  so  soon  as  consciousness 
supervened,  and  questioned  him  in  reference,  to  his 
family,  place  of  residence,  relatives,  etc.  But  his  an 
swers  were  incoherent  and  unsatisfactory.  He  told  me 
however,  he  had  a  wife  in  Richmond  (which  I  have 
since  learned  was  not  the  fact),  that  he  did  not  know 
when  he  left  that  city  or  what  had  become  of  his  trunk 
of  clothing.  Wishing  to  rally  and  sustain  his  now  fast 
sinking  hopes,  I  told  him  I  hoped  that  in  a  few  days  he 
would  be  able  to  enjoy  the  society  of  his  friends  here 
and  I  would  be  most  happy  to  contribute  in  every  possi 
ble  way  to  his  ease  and  comfort.  At  this  he  broke  out 
with  much  energy,  and  said  the  best  thing  his  best  friend 
could  do  would  be  to  blow  out  his  brains  with  a  pistol 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  345 

—  that  when  he  beheld  his  degradation  he  was  ready  to 
sink  into  the  earth,"  etc.  Shortly  after  giving  expres 
sion  to  these  words  Mr.  Poe  seemed  to  doze,  and  I  left 
him  for  a  short  time.  When  I  returned  I  found  him  in 
a  violent  delirium,  resisting  the  efforts  of  two  nurses  to 
keep  him  in  bed.  This  state  continued  until  Saturday 
evening  (he  was  admitted  on  Wednesday),  when  he 
commenced  calling  for  one  u  Reynolds,"  which  he  did 
through  the  night  until  three  on  Sunday  morning.  At 
this  time  a  very  decided  change  began  to  affect  him. 
Having  become  enfeebled  from  exertion  he  became 
quiet  and  seemed  to  rest  for  a  short  time  ;  then  gently 
moving  his  head,  he  said,  "  Lord  help  my  poor  soul," 
and  expired ! 

This,  Madam,  is  as  faithful  an  account  as  I  am  able 
to  furnish  from  the  Record  of  his  case. 

His  remains  were  visited  by  some  of  the  first  individ 
uals  of  the  city,  many  of  them  anxious  to  have  a  lock  of 
his  hair. 

Respectfully  yours, 

J.  J.  MORAN,  Res.  Phys.1 

The  undistinguished  funeral  took  place  on  Mon 
day,  October  8,  and  three  days  later  Neilson  Poe 
wrote  an  account  of  it  to  Mrs.  Clemm  :  — 

1  Moran  to  Mrs.  Clemm,  MS.  The  omitted  portions  are  of  no 
interest.  The  different  dates  and  additional  circumstances  given 
many  years  afterward  by  Dr.  Moran,  must  give  way  to  the  state 
ments  here  made  when  the  event  was  fresh  in  his  memory. 


346  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

BALTIMORE,  October  11,  1849. 
MY  DEAR  MADAM  : 

He  died  on  Sunday  morning,  about  five  o'clock,  at  the 
Washington  Medical  College,  where  he  had  been  since* 
the  Wednesday  preceding.  At  what  time  he  arrived 
in  this  city,  where  he  spent  the  time  he  was  here,  or  un 
der  what  circumstances,  I  have  been  unable  to  ascertain. 
It  appears  that  on  Wednesday  he  was  seen  and  recog 
nized  at  one  of  the  places  of  election  in  old  town,  and 
that  his  condition  was  such  as  to  render  it  necessary  to 
send  him  to  the  College,  where  he  was  tenderly  nursed 
until  the  time  of  his  death.  As  soon  as  I  heard  that  he 
was  at  the  College  I  went  over  ;  but  his  physician  did  not 
think  it  advisable  that  I  should  see  him,  as  he  was  very 
excitable.  The  next  day  I  called,  and  sent  him  changes 
of  linen  etc.,  and  was  gratified  to  learn  that  he  was  much 
better,  and  I  was  never  so  much  shocked,  in  my  life',  as 
when,  on  Sunday  morning,  notice  was  sent  me  that  he 
was  dead.  Mr.  Herring  and  myself  immediately  took 
the  necessary  steps  for  his  funeral,  which  took  place  on 
Monday  afternoon  at  four  o'clock.  .  .  .  The  body  was 
followed  to  the  grave  by  Mr.  Herring,  Dr.  Snodgrass, 
Mr.  Z.  Collins  Lee  (an  old  classmate)  and  myself.  The 
service  was  performed  by  the  Rev.  William  T.  D.  Clemm, 
a  son  of  James  S.  Clemm.  Mr.  Herring  and  myself 
have  sought,  in  vain,  for  the  trunk  and  clothes  of  Edgar 
—  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  he  was  robbed  of  them, 
whilst  in  such  a  condition  as  to  render  him  insensible  of 
his  loss.  .  .  . 

Truly  your  friend  and  servant,       NEILSON"  POE. 

MRS.  MARIA 


1  Neilson  Poe  to  Mrs.  Clemm.    MS.     The  omitted  portions  are 
of  no  interest. 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  347 

Shortly  after  I?oe's  death  his  remaining  Writings 
were  published  by  the  editors  or  friends  who  had 
copies.  To  mention  only  the  first  issue  in  each 
case,  "  Annabel  Lee,"  the  simplest  and  sweetest  of 
his  ballads,  appeared  in  the  New  York  "  Tribune," 
"  The  Bells,"  that  wonderful  onomatopoetic  experi 
ment,  in  "  Sartain's  "  for  November,  an  essay  "  On 
Critics  and  Criticism"  in  "  Graham's  "  for  January, 
1850,  and  in  October  following,  "  The  Poetic  Prin 
ciple  "  in  "  Sartain's."  The  press  had  few  notices 
of  his  loss ;  and,  had  it  not  been  foi?  the  intense  en 
ergy  of  Griswold's  delineation  of  him  in  the  "  Trib 
une,"  a  piece  of  writing  that  has  the  power  of  ge 
nius  and  cannot  be  forgotten  while  his  memory 
lives,  there  would  have  been  little  to  mark  his 
death  in  contemporary  papers.  In  consequence  of 
this  attack,  however,  Willis  made  a  kind  defense 
of  his  friend  in  the  "  Home  Journal."  Notwith 
standing  this  incidental  proof  of  Griswold's  temper 
and  predisposition  toward  Poe,  the  latter's  papers, 
which  contained  ample  materials  for  a  biography, 
were  put  into  his  hands.  After  having  edited 
two  volumes  of  Poe's  Works,  Griswold  prefixed  his 
notorious  memoir  to  the  third  volume,  and  at  a 
later  time  published  the  fourth  and  last  volume. 
The  editing  was  poorly  done,  and  in  consequence 
there  is  at  present  no  accurate  or  complete  edition 
of  Poe's  works,  since  later  editors  have  taken  Gris 
wold's  work  as  a  basis.  The  memoir  aroused  a 
stormy  discussion  ;  the  poet's  friends,  Wilmer,  Neal, 


348  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

and  Graham,  had  already  come  to  his  defense  ;  and 
since  then  many  others  of  his  acquaintances*  have 
come  forward  from  time  to  time  to  tell  whatever 
good  they  knew  of  him,  so  that  there  is  at  present 
no  fund  of  personal  reminiscence  about  any  other 
American  man  of  letters  that  can  compare  in  full 
ness,  detail,  and  variety  with  that  regarding  Poe. 

The  story  that  has  now  been  told,  in  which  has 
been  substantially  incorporated  whatever  knowl 
edge  of  Poe  was  accessible,  has  shown,  it  is  hoped, 
the  folly  of  any  summary  view  of  his  character. 
Where  the  fault  lay  those  who  are  bold  to  take  the 
scales  of  justice  may  determine ;  the  simple  fact  is 
that  Poe,  being  highly  endowed,  well-bred,  and  ed 
ucated  better  than  his  fellows,  had  more  than  once 
fair  opportunities,  brilliant  prospects,  and  groups 
of  benevolent,  considerate,  and  active  friends,  and 
repeatedly  forfeited  prosperity  and  even  the  homely 
honor  of  an  honest  name.  He  ate  opium  and  drank 
liquor  ;  whatever  was  the  cause,  these  were  instru 
ments  of  his  ruin,  and  before  half  his  years  were 
run  they  had  done  their  work  with  terrible  thor 
oughness  —  he  was  a  broken  man.  He  died  un 
der  circumstances  of  exceptional  ugliness,  misery, 
and  pity,  but  not  accidentally,  for  the  end  and 
the  manner  of  it  were  clearly  near  and  inevitable. 
He  left  a  fame  destined  to  long  memory,  and  about 
it  has  grown  up  an  idealized  legend,  the  elements 
of  which  are  not  far  to  seek ;  but  in  the  first 
lines  of  the  literary  history  of  a  young  nation,  the 


THE  END   OF  THE  PLAY.  349 

truth  is  better  than  a  lie,  however  gilded,  and  in 
the  case  of  genius,  that  so  easily  gathers  romantic 
power  over  the  heart  and  wins  its  devotion,  candor 
is  a  social  virtue.  On  the  roll  of  our  literature 
Poe's  name  is  inscribed  with  the  few  foremost,  and 
in  the  world  at  large  his  genius  is  established  as 
valid  among:  all  men.  Much  as  he  derived  nurture 

O 

from  other  sources  he  was  the  son  of  Coleridge  by 
the  weird  touch  in  his  imagination,  by  the  principles 
of  his  analytic  criticism,  and  the  speculative  bent 
of  his  mind.  An  artist  primarily,  whose  skill, 
helped  by  the  finest  sensitive  and  perceptive 
powers  in  himself,  was  developed  by  thought,  pa 
tience,  and  endless  self-correction  into  a  subtle  deft 
ness  of  hand  unsurpassed  in  its  own  work,  he  be 
longed  to  the  men  of  culture  instead  of  those  of 
originally  perfect  power  ;  but  being  gifted  with  the 
dreaming  instinct,  the  myth-making  faculty,  the  al 
legorizing  power,  and  with  no  other  poetic  element 
of  high  genius,  he  exercised  his  art  in  a  region  of 
vague  feeling,  symbolic  ideas,  and  fantastic  imagery, 
and  wrought  his  spell  largely  through  sensuous  ef 
fects  of  color,  sound,  and  gloom,  heightened  by 
lurking  but  unshaped  suggestions  of  mysterious 
meanings.  Now  and  then  gleams  of  light  and 
stretches  of  lovely  landscape  shine  out,  but  for  the 
most  part  his  mastery  was  over  dismal,  supersti 
tious,  and  waste  places.  In  imagination,  as  in  ac 
tion,  his  was  an  evil  genius;  and  in  its  realms  of 
revery  he  dwelt  alone.  Except  the  wife  who  idol- 


350  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 

ized  him  and  the  mother  who  cared  for  him,  no  one 
touched  his  heart  in  the  years  of  his  manhood,  and 
at  no  time  was  love  so  strong  in  him  as  to  rule  his 
life  ;  as  he  was  self-indulgent,  he  was  self-absorbed, 
and  outside  of  his  family  no  kind  act,  no  noble  af 
fection,  no  generous  sacrifice  is  recorded  of  him. 
Many  men,  it  is  true,  held  him  in  kind  regard,  and 
many  women,  subjected  by  his  romantic  sentiment, 
remained  loyal  to  his  memory ;  but  these  winning 
attractions  never  overcame  the  subtle  power  within 
that  made  him  unable  to  establish  a  natural  human 
relation,  to  keep  continuously  on  living  terms  with 
any  one,  except  the  inmates  of  his  family.  Solitary 
as  he  was,  proud  and  selfish,  how  could  he  kindle 
his  works  with  the  vital  interest  of  humanity? 
Other  interests  they  have,  but  not  this  crowning 
one  which  is  the  supreme  excellence  of  the  works 
of  men.  Thus  ever  more  remote  from  mankind  ran 
the  currents  of  his  life  and  genius,  interminably 
commingling,  until  their  twin  streams,  glassing  at 
last  the  desolation  they  had  so  often  prophetically 
imaged,  choked  and  stagnant  in  midway  of  their 
course,  sank  into  the  waste.  The  pitiful  justice  of 
Poe's  fate,  the  dark  immortality  of  his  fame,  were 
accomplished. 


INDEX 

OF    THE    PRINCIPAL   NEWSPAPERS,    PERIODICALS,    AND 
PROPER  NAMES  MENTIONED  IN  THE  TEXT. 


[In  consulting  this  index  for  any  particular  poem,  story,  or  article  by  Poe, 
the  references  to  the  magazines  he  edited  and  the  various  collections  of  his 
writings  published  by  himself  should  also  be  carefully  looked  up.] 


ALEXANDER,  W.  C.,  concerning  Poe's 
habits,  134. 

Alexander's  Weekly  Messenger,  142. 

Allan,  John,  adopts  Poe,  15;  attitude 
toward  Poe,  22,  53,  54,  02  ;  letter  to 
Secretary  of  War,  42,  43 ;  remarries, 
56;  death,  68. 

Allan,  Mrs.  John,  14 ;  her  death,  38. 

Arnold,  Mrs.,  3-5. 

Arnold,  Miss  Elizabeth,  first  appear 
ance  on  the  stage,  4 ;  her  age,  6 
note;  marries  David  Poe,  8;  birth 
of  William  and  Edgar,  11 ;  death, 
13,  14. 

BLACKWELL,  Miss  ANNA,  310. 

Bliss,  Elam,  publisher  of  Poe's  poems, 
58. 

Boscovich,  29G. 

Boston  Gazette,  appeal  for  Mrs.  Poe's 
benefit,  10. 

Bransby,  Dr.,  Poe's  description  of,  18. 

Briggs,  C.  F.,  216;  associated  with 
Poe,  225 ;  his  opinion  of  Poe  in  let 
ters  to  J.  R.  Lowell,  22G-229,  235- 
239. 

Broadway  Journal,  the,  225,  234,  235 ; 
Poe  becomes  proprietor  of,  243 ;  last 
issue  of,  247. 

Brooks,  N.  C.,  54,  64,  108,  109. 

Browning,  Mrs.  E.  B.,  219. 

Bulwer,  E.  L.,  91. 

Burke,  William,  20. 

Burton,  William  E.,  as  editor  of  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine,  114;  his 
quarrel  with  Poe,  126,  128-142. 

Byron,  influence  on  Poe,  33,  50. 

CAMPBELL,  MAJOR  JOHN,  41. 
Calderon,  122  note. 
Carter,  Dr.,  337,  342. 


Channing,  W.  E.,  189. 

Chateaubriand,  influence  on  Poe,  51, 
303. 

Clarke,  Joseph  H.,  19,20. 

Clarke,  Thomas  C.,  joins  with  Poe  to 
publish  the  Stylus,  176,  182,  183; 
reminiscences  of  Poe's  home,  188. 

Clemm,  Mrs.,  Poe  makes  his  home 
with,  68  ;  plan  to  start  a  boarding- 
house,  78,  79,  98,  99  ;  on  Poe's  tem 
perance,  135  ;  head  of  Poe's  house 
hold,  165 ;  on  Poe's  home  life,  301, 
302. 

Clemm,  Virginia,  68;  her  marriage 
with  Poe,  75,  78,  97,  98;  her  beauty, 
166 ;  illness,  167-170  ;  death,  277. 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  51,  91 ;  influence  on 
Poe,  93,  285. 

Converse,  Rev.  F.,  98. 

Cooper,  James  Fenimore,  189. 

DARLEY,  F.  O.  C.,  to  illustrate  the 
Stylus,  180;  reminiscences  of  Poe, 
181. 

Dawes,  Rufus,  52 ;  Poe's  article  on, 
176. 

Dewey,  Dr.  Orville,  257. 

Dickens,  Charles,  150,  198. 

Didier,  E.,  on  Poe's  marriage,  77  note. 

Disraeli,  influence  on  Poe,  85,  91. 

Dollar  Newspaper,  the,  188,  189. 

Dow,  J.  E.,  cares  for  Poe  in  Washing 
ton,  182. 

Duane,  Willis,  his  accusation  against 
Poe,  204-207. 

Duval,  P.  S.,  concerning  Poe's  learn 
ing  lithography,  143  note. 

EASTERN    HERALD    AND    GAZETTE  OF 

MAINE,  5. 
Ellet,  Mrs.  E.  F.,  258,  262. 


352 


INDEX. 


Ellis,  Powhattan,  53. 
Ellis,  Col.  Thomas  H.,  69. 
Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  157. 
English,  Thomas  Dunn,  265,  266. 
Enquirer,  The,  13. 

FARADAY,  296. 

Fay,   Thomas  S.,  his  Norman  Leslie 

reviewed  by  Poe,  86. 
Fisher,  E.  Burke,  113. 
Francis,  Dr.,  258. 
FuUer,  Margaret,  258,  262. 

Gentleman's  Magazine,  the,  character 
of,  114,  115 ;  Foe's  editorship,  115, 
123-126  ;  Graham  assumes  control, 
143.  See  Graham's  Magazine. 

Gift,  the,  186. 

Gove,  Mrs.  Mary,  258 ;  reminiscences 
of  Poe,  272,  274. 

Gowans,  Wm.,  on  Poe's  habits,  108. 

Graham's  Magazine,  143;  Poe's  editor 
ship  of,  149,  160,  171,  196. 

Greeley,  Horace,  his  endorsement  of 
Poe's  note,  243. 

Green,  his  company  of  players,  6,  7, 12. 

Griswold,  Capt.  H.  W.,  his  letter  rec 
ommending  Poe,  40. 

Griswold,  R.  W.,  relations  with  Poe, 
171-175,  192,  195,  244,  245 ;  descrip 
tion  of  Poe's  home,  186,  187  ;  en 
gages  to  edit  Pos's  works,  337  ;  his 
memoir,  347,  348. 

Gwynn,  Wm.,  43,  44,  63,  64. 

HALLECK,  FITZ-GREENE,  189. 

Hawthorne,  N.,  158:  Poe's  estimate 
of,  280. 

Herschel,  83. 

Hewitt,  John  H.,  52;  description  of 
Poe,  68. 

Hirst,  53  note,  241. 

Hoffman,  C.  P.,  312. 

Hopkins,  C.  D.,  6,  7. 

Home,  Poe's  praises  of,  196. 

House,  Col.  James,  requests  Poe's 
discharge  from  the  army,  38,  39. 

Howard,  Lieutenant  J.,  his  letter  rec 
ommending  Poe,  40. 

Hoyt,  241. 

INDEPENDENT  CHRONICLE  AND  UNIVER 
SAL  ADVERTISER,  3. 

KENNEDY,  JOHN  P. ,  65-77  ;  concerning 
the  reason  of  Poe's  leaving  the  Mes 
senger,  102. 

Knickerbocker,  the,  on  American  crit 
icism,  89. 

LAFAYETTE,  3. 
Laplace,  296. 


Latrobe,  J.  H.  B.,   reminiscences  of 

Poe,  65-67. 
Lawsou,  James,  258. 
Lea  &  Blanchard,  publishers  of  Poe's 

Tales,  116,  117,  164,  165. 
Lewis,  Mrs.  S.,  312  ;  her  last  meeting 

with  Poe,  333. 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  Poe's  charges  of 

plagiarism  against,    124,  157,   231  ; 

Poe's  estimate    of,   159,   160;    The 

Waif,  224,  230 ;  his  opinion  of  Poe's 

criticism,  232. 
Lord,  W.  W.,  232. 
Lowell,    J.  R.,  Poe's  letters  to,  176 

et  seq.  ;  his  sketch  of  Poe,  207,  222  ; 

meeting  with  Poe,  234. 
Lynch,  Miss  Anne  C.,  258. 

MAGRUDER,  ALLAN  B.,  reminiscences 

of  Poe,  54,  55. 
Massachusetts  Mercury,  4. 
Mclntosh,  Miss  Maria,  310. 
Meunier,    Mine.   I.,  translates    Poe's 

Tales,  283. 
Mirror,  the,  on  Poe's  criticisms,  87, 

88 ;  advertises  the  Penn,  175 ;   Poe 

assistant    editor,   218;    Poe's    libel 

suit  against,  266. 
Moore,    Thomas,   influence  on    Poe, 

ol. 
Moran,  Dr.    J.  J.,  account  of  Poe's 

death,  343-345. 
Morell,  Voyages  of,  Poe's  indebtedness 

to,  106. 

NEAL,  John,  44. 

OAKIE,  DR.,  317. 

Opal,  the,  189. 

Osgood,  Mrs.  F.  S.,  259-263. 

PABODIE,  W.  J.,  317,  319. 

Paulding,  J.  K.,  106. 

Penn  Magazine,  the,  cause  of  Poe's 
trouble  with  Burton,  135-137 ;  pro 
spectus,  145-148 ;  scheme  of,  re 
vived,  160,  175.  See  Stylus. 

Pioneer,  the,  177,  183. 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  parentage,  1-14  ; 
date  of  birth,  11  note;  adopted  by 
John  Allan,  15  ;  at  school  in  England, 
16-19  ;  youthful  characteristics,  20- 
23 ;  at  the  University  of  Virginia,  25- 
28  ;  in  Boston,  30-36  ;  in  the  army 
37-39 ;  misstatements  concerning 
his  age,  53  ;  at  West  Point,  54-57  ; 
rupture  with  Mr.  Allan,  62,  69 ;  in 
Baltimore,  64-74  ;  first  evidences  of 
intemperance,  72,  73  ;  in  Richmond, 
74-103  ;  marriage,  75,  78,  97,  98  ;  as 
a  critic,  86-91,  153,  160,  266-271  ; 
poetic_ih«ory,  91-94,  159;  goes  to 


INDEX. 


353 


New  York,  104;  to  Philadelphia, 
108;  employed  by  Burton,  115; 
quarrel  with  Burton  and  discussion 
of  habits,  120,  128-142;  employed 
by  Graham,  149  ;  aim  and  method  in 
narration,  152  ;  household,  165-167  ; 
wife's  illness,  167-171  ;  plans  for  the 
Stylus,  see  Stylus ;  trip  to  Washing 
ton,  181-183 ;  as  a  lecturer,  195 ; 
goes  to  New  York,  199  ;  on  the  Mir 
ror,  218  ;  lectures  before  N.  Y.  His 
torical  Society.  223,  224;  on  the 
Broadway  Journal,  228,  247,  248; 
before  the  Boston  Lyceum,  241-243  ; 
estimate  of  his  poetry,  249-25.7  ;  his 
acquaintance  with  the  "New  York 
literati,  257-263;  removal  to  Ford- 
ham,  262  ;  home  life  at  Fordham, 
271-276 ;  his  wife's  death,  277  ;  his 
illness,  278,  279  ;  his  lecture,  Eu 
reka,  284,  285 ;  his  opinion  of  Eure 
ka,  285,  300,  301,  312 ;  trip  to  Rich 
mond,  311;  his  love  affairs,  308-327  ; 
despondency,  332 ;  last  trip  to  the 
South,  333 ;  his  proposed  marriage 
with  Mrs.  Shelton,  337-341;  de 
parture  for  New  York,  341,  342  ;  last 
illness,  343,  346. 

WORKS.  AL  AARAAF  (1829),  47  note; 
estimate  of,  48-52 ;  Annabel  Lee, 
347;  Assignation,  The,  81,  232; 
Automatic  Chess  Plai/er,  The,  96, 
97  ;  Bells,  The,  302-304,  328,  347 ; 
Berenice,  70,  80,  81,  232  ;  Black  Cat, 
The,  189 ;  Bon-Bon,  85,  232  ;  Bridal 
Ballad,  240;  Business  Man,  The, 
240  ;  Cask  of  Amontillado,  The, 
275  ;  Catholic  Hymn,  240  ;  City  of 
the  Sea,  240;  Coliseum,  The,  240; 
CONCHOLOGIST'S  FIRST  BOOK,  THE, 
109-113 ;  Conqueror  Worm,  The, 
186,  232 ;  Critical  History  of  Amer 
ican  Literature,  215 ;  Critics  and 
Criticism,  328,  347;  Devil  in  the 
Belfry,  The,  246  ;  Diddling  consid 
ered  as  one  of  the  Fine  Arts,  240  ; 
Domain  of  Arnheim,  The,  328-330; 
Dream,  A,  240  ;  Dreamland,  207  ; 
Due  de  V  Omelette,  The,  80,  240; 
El  Dorado,  328  ;  Eleonora,  168-170, 
332;  Epimanes,  80;  Estelle,  301; 
Eulalie,  240  ;  EUREKA,  first  planned, 
280  ;  elaborated,  283,  284 ;  publica 
tion  of,  285 ;  estimate  of,  286-301  ; 
Fairyland,  123,  241;  Fall  of  the 
House  of  Usher,  120  - 122  ;  Four 
Beasts  in  One,  246;  Flaccus,  186; 
Gold  Bug,  The,  188,  189;  Hans 
Pfaall,  70,  83  ;  Hop  Frog,  ,T_'8 ;  Jlmr 
to  write  <t  lilackn-ooil.  Article,  240. 
Island  of  the  Fay,  The,  240 ;  J.*rti- 
fel,  240  ;  Julius  Rodman.  125,  126  ; 
23 


King  Pest,  80,  240 ;  Lander's  Cot 
tage,  327  ;  Landscape  Garden,  The, 
240;  Lenore,  186,240;  Ligeia,  H8- 
120 ;  Lionizing,  232  ;  lAterary  Life 
of  Thin<jtim-Bob,  220,  240;  Literati 
of  New  York,  The,  263,  268  ;  Loss 
of  Breath,  80,  246 ;  Man  Who  was 
Used  Up,  The,  189,  240  ;  Marginalia, 
221,  203,  275,  301;  Masque  of  the 
Red: Death,  The,  240  ;  Mellonta  Tau- 
ta,  327  ;  Mesmeric  Revelations,  214 ; 
Metzengerstein,  80  ;  Morella,  80,  232 ; 
Morning  on  the  Wissnhiccon,  189; 
MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle,  83,  240  ;  Mur 
ders  in  the  Rue  Morgue,  150,  189, 
283  ;  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget,  176  ; 
Mystification,  246 ;  Never  Bet  the 
Devil  your  Head,  240 :  Notes  upon 
English  Verse,  179,  186  ;  Oblong 
Box,  The,  220,  246;  Our  Amateur 
Poets,  186,  189  ;  Our  Contributors, 
189;  Oval  Portrait,  The,  232  ; 
Pcean,  186 ;  Peter  Snooks,  232  ;  Phi 
losophy  of  Composition,  The,  263  ; 
Philosophy  of  Furniture,  232 ;  Pit 
and  the  Pendulum,  The,  186,  232  ; 
Poetic  Principle,  The,  311,  320,  334, 
347  ;  Poets  and  Poetry  of  America, 
The,  172,  195  ;  POEMS  (1831),  58-61 ; 
Politian,  70 ;  Power  of  Words,  The, 
240  ;  Premature  Burial,  The,  232  ; 
Purloined  Letter,  The,  221  ;  Quacks 
of  Helicon,  154  ;  Rationale  of  Verse, 
The,  186,  312  ;  RAVEN  AND  OTHER 
POEMS,  THE  (1845),  248-257  ;  Raren, 
The,  221,  222  ;  Romance,  240.  Sci 
ence,  240;  Shadow.  80-82,232:  Si 
lence,  123,  240  ;  Sleeper,  The,  232 ; 
Some  Words  with  a  Mummy,  246 ; 
Song  ("I  saw  thee  "),  241  ;  Spec 
tacles,  The,  246  ;  Spirits  of  the  Dead, 
123  ;  Tale  of  Jerusalem,  A ,  80,  240  ; 
Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains.  A, 
207,  246;  TALES  (1845),  239  note; 
Tales  of  the  Folio  Club,  80-85; 
TALES  OF  THE  GROTESQUE  AND  ARA 
BESQUE  (1840),  115  ;  TAMERLANE  AND 
OTHER  POEMS  (1827),  30-36;  Tell- 
Tale  Heart,  The,  185,  240 ;  The  1002 
Tale,  222;  Thou  art  the  Man,  220; 
Three  Sundays  in  a  week,  232  ;  To 

("The    bowers  whereat"), 

241 ;    To  Annie,  328  ;    To  F , 

232  ;  To  Ian  the  in  Heaven,  123  ;  To 
M.  L.  S ,  280 ;  To  My  Moth 
er,  328  ;  To  the  Hirer ,  123,  241 ; 

Travels  in  Arabia  Petrcca,  104,  105; 
Ulalume,  281-283;  V<it<-nth>t,  A, 
328  ;  Valley  of  Unrest,  The,  241  ; 
Williinn.  Wilton,  122,  240 ;  Why 
the  Little  Frmrhinnn  Wears  his 
Hand  in  a  Sling,  240. 


354 


INDEX. 


Poe,  David,  1,  2,  6,  7 ;   his  marriage, 

8 :  uncertainty  about  his  death.  12, 

18. 

Poe,  Gen.  David,  his  character,  2,  3. 
Poe,  George,  79. 
Poe,  Neilson,  75;  his  account  of  Poe's 

death,  346. 
Poe,  William,  11,  14. 
Poe,  Rosalie,  13,  14,  334. 
Preston,  James  C.,  recommends  Poe 

for  West  Point,  41,  42. 

REID,  MAYNE,   165;   reminiscences  of 

Poe's  home,  187. 
Royster,  Miss  S.  E.,  reminiscences  of 

Poe,  24,  311 ;  Poe's  proposal  of  mar 

riage  to,  337,  341. 

SARTAIN,  JOHN,  333. 

Saturday  Evening  Post,  the,  143,  149, 

172. 
Saturday  Museum,  publishes  a  sketch 

of  Poe.  181 ;  attack  on  Griswold  of, 

195. 

Saturday  Visiter,  65. 
Schlegel,  96,  97. 
Shapley,  R.  E.,  301. 
Sheltou,  Mrs.  S.  E. ,  see  Royster,  Miss 

S.  E. 
Shew,  Mrs.  M.  L.,  275  ;  intimacy  with 

Poe,  277-279,  302,  304-307. 
Smith,  Mrs.  E.  O.,  258. 
Snodgrass,  Dr.  J.  E.,  Poe's  letters  to, 

127  et  seq.;  has  Poe  taken  to  the 

hospital,  343. 

Snowden's  Lady's  Companion,  176. 
Southern    Literary    Messenger,    70 ; 

Poe's  editorship  of,  74-100. 
Spirit  of  the  Times,  the,  charges  Poe 

with  plagiarism,  189. 


Stanard,  Mrs.  Jane  Stith,  23.. 
Stoddard,  R.  H..  on  the  date  of  Poe's 

birth,  11  note. 
Stylus,  the,  176;  plans  for,  180,  186, 

284,332. 

THOMAS,  CALVIN  F.  S.,  30,  36. 
Thomas,  F.  W.,  161 ;  Poe's  letters  to, 

161  et  seq. 

Thompson,  J.  R.,  311. 
Thomson,  Sir  William,  296. 
Tomlin,  John,  190. 

UNITED  STATES  MILITARY  MAGAZINE, 
143. 

VALENTINE,  EDWARD,  319. 
Virginia  Patriot,  13. 

WALTERS,  Miss,  242. 

Ward,  Thomas,  186. 

Watson,  Henry  G.,  227. 

Weiss,  Mrs.  S.  A.,  reminiscences  of 
Poe,  334-337. 

White,  T.  W.,  70 ;  relations  with  Poe, 
100-103. 

Whitman,  Sarah  H.,  62;  Poe's  love 
affair  with,  308-327. 

Wilmer,  Lambert  A. ,  65 ;  intimacy 
with  Poe.  68,  69  ;  on  Poe's  habits, 
135  ;  Poe's  accusation  against,  191, 
192  ;  defends  Poe,  347. 

Willis,  N.  P.,  197,  218;  on  Poe's  lec 
ture,  224 ;  on  Ulalume,  281 ;  de 
fense  of  Poe  by,  347. 

Worth,  Lieut.  Col.  W.  J.,  letter  of, 
recommending  Poe,  40,  41. 

YANKEE  AND  BOSTON  LITERARY  GA 
ZETTE,  THE,  44-47. 


ERRATA. 

Page  3,  line  18.     For  ' '  une  coeur ' '  read  ' '  un  cceur." 
Page  14,  line  17.  For  "McKenzie"  read  "MacKenzie." 
Page  30,  foot-note.    For  "  Shepard  "  read  "  Shepherd." 


r 


LIBRARY  USE 

TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


^T^snsnn? 


jaic-JARl 


LD  62A-30m-2I>bw 

(J6534S10J.9412A— A-32 


.General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


U.C.BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


UNIVERSITY  pE  pALIFOI^NI^  L|BRARY 


